CAROLYN 

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CORNERS 


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BELMORE 

ENDICOTT 



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CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 















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rr Mandy ! Mandy!” he murmured over and over again 

(Page i ig) 


/ THE “ LOOK UP ” BOOK 


CAROLYN OF THE 
CORNERS 


BY 

RUTH BELMORE ENDICOTT 


WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY 
EDWARD C. CASWELL 



NEW YORK 

DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 
1918 



Copyright, 1918 

By DODD. MEAD AND COMPANY. Inc. S 


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CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I The Ray of Sunlight .... i 

II An Old-Fashioned Rose . . . . 12 

III Going to Bed 22 

IV “Well — She’ll be a Nuisance” . . 33 

V Aunty Rose Unbends 40 

VI Mr. Jedidiah Parlow 48 

VII A Tragic Situation 61 

VIII Mr. Stagg is Judged 72 

IX Prince Awakens the Corners ... 83 

X A Sunday Walk 101 

XI A Canine Intervention . . . .112 

XII Chet Gormley Tells Some News . .120 

XIII Breaking Through 140 

XIV A Find in the Drifts . . . .150 

XV The Old Sailor 16 1 

XVI A Salt-Sea Flavour 168 

XVII Will Wonders Never Cease? . . . 177 

XVIII Something Carolyn May Wishes to 

Know 188 

XIX A Good Deal of Excitement . . . 200 

XX The Spring Freshet 210 


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CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XXI The Chapel Bell ...... 224 

XXII Chet Gormley’s Ambition . . . 234 

XXIII How to Write a Sermon . . . 244 

XXIV The Awakening . . . . . 254 

XXV The Forest Fire 267 

XXVI The Laurel to the Brave . . . 275 

XXVII “ Two’s Company ” 290 

XXVIII The Journey 297 

XXIX The Homing of Carolyn May . . 307 

XXX The House of Bewilderment . . 313 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


“Mandy! Mandy!” he murmured over and over 

again (Page 119) Frontispiece 

FACING 

PAGE 

She had watched the huge vessel sweep off from the 

dock 74 

“Do people that get drownd-ed feel much pain?” 196 

“You aren’t mad at each other any more, are you?” 280 



CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 






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CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


CHAPTER I 

THE RAY OF SUNLIGHT 

J UST as the rays of the afternoon sun hesitated 
to enter the open door of Joseph Stagg’s hard- 
ware store in Sunrise Cove, and lingered on 
the sill, so the little girl in the black frock and hat, 
with twin braids of sunshiny hair on her shoulders, 
hovered at the entrance of the dim and dusty place. 

She carried a satchel in one hand, while the fingers 
of the other were hooked into the rivet-studded col- 
lar of a mottled, homely mongrel dog, who likewise 
looked curiously into the dusky interior of Mr. 
Stagg’s shop, and whose abbreviated tail quivered 
expectantly. 

“ Oh, dear me, Prince ! ” sighed the little girl, 
“ this must be the place. We’ll just have to go in. 
Of course, I know he must be a nice man; but he’s 
such a stranger ! ” 

She sighed again; but Prince whined eagerly. He 
seemed much more sanguine of a welcome than did 
his mistress. Her feet faltered over the doorsill and 


2 


CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


paced slowly down the shop between the long coun- 
ters, each step slower than its predecessor. 

She saw no clerk; only the littered counters, the 
glass-enclosed showcases, the low bins of nails and 
bolts on either hand, and the high shelves filled with 
innumerable boxes, on the end of each of which was 
a sample piece of hardware. 

At the back of the shop was a small office closed 
in with grimy windows. There was not much light 
there. The uncertain visitor and her canine com- 
panion saw the shadowy figure of a man inside the 
office, sitting on a high stool and bent above a big 
ledger. 

The dog, however, scented something else. The 
hair on his neck began to bristle, and he sniffed 
inquiringly. 

In the half darkness of the shop he and his little 
mistress came unexpectedly upon what Prince con- 
sidered his arch-enemy. There rose up on the end 
of the counter nearest the open office door a big, 
black tom-cat whose arched back, swollen tail, and 
yellow eyes blazing defiance, proclaimed his readi- 
ness to give battle to the quivering dog. 

“ Ps-s-st — ye-ow! ” 

The rising yowl broke the silence of the shop like 
a trumpet-call. The little girl dropped her bag and 
seized the dog’s collar with both hands. 

“ Prince!” she cried, “don’t you speak to that 
cat — don’t you dare speak to it! ” 

The dog quivered all over in an ague of desire. 


THE RAY OF SUNLIGHT 


3 

The instincts of the chase possessed his doggish soul, 
but his little mistress’ word was law to him. 

“ Bless me ! ” croaked a voice from the office. 

The tom-cat uttered a second “ ps-s-st — ye-ow!” 
and shot up a ladder to the top shelf, from which 
vantage he looked down, showering insults on his 
enemy in a low and threatening tone. 

“ Bless me! ” repeated Joseph Stagg, taking off 
his eye-glasses and leaving them in the ledger to 
mark his place. “ What have you brought that dog 
in here for?” 

He came to the office door. Without his glasses, 
and with the girl standing between him and the light, 
Mr. Stagg squinted a little to see her, stooping, with 
his hands on his knees. 

“ I — I didn’t have any place to leave him,” was 
the hesitating reply to the rather petulant query. 

“ Hum ! Did your mother send you for some- 
thing? ” 

“ No-o, sir,” sighed the little visitor. 

“Your father wants something, then?” ques- 
tioned the puzzled hardware dealer. 

M No-o, sir.” 

At that moment a more daring ray of sunlight 
found its way through the transom over the store 
door and lit up the dusky place. It fell upon the 
slight, black-frocked figure and, for the instant, 
touched the pretty head as with an aureole. 

“ Bless me, child ! ” exclaimed Mr. Stagg. “ Who 
are you? ” 


4 


CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


The flowerlike face of the little girl quivered, the 
blue eyes spilled big drops over her cheeks. She 
approached Mr. Stagg, stooping and squinting in 
the office doorway, and placed a timid hand upon 
the broad band of black crepe he wore on his coat 
sleeve. 

“You’re not Hannah’s Car’lyn?” questioned the 
hardware dealer huskily. 

“ I’m Car’lyn May Cameron,” she confessed. 
“ You’re my Uncle Joe. I’m very glad to see you, 
Uncle Joe, and — and I hope — you’re glad to see 
me — and Prince,” she finished rather falteringly. 

“ Bless me ! ” murmured the man again, leaning 
for support against the door frame. 

Nothing so startling as this had entered Sunrise 
Cove’s chief “ hardware emporium,” as Mr. Stagg’s 
standing advertisement read in the Weekly Bugle , 
for many and many a year. 

Hannah Stagg, the hardware merchant’s only sis- 
ter, had gone away from home quite fifteen years 
previously. Mr. Stagg had never seen Hannah 
again; but this slight, blue-eyed, sunny-haired girl 
was a replica of his sister, and in some dusty corner 
of Mr. Stagg’s heart there dwelt a very faithful 
memory of Hannah. 

Nothing had served to estrange the brother and 
sister save time and distance. Hannah had been a 
patient correspondent, and Joseph Stagg had always 
acknowledged the receipt of her letters in a business- 
like way, if with brevity. 


THE RAY OF SUNLIGHT 


5 


“ Dear Hannah : 

“Yours of the 12th inst. to hand and contents 
noted. Glad to learn of your continued good health 
and that of your family, this leaving me in the same 
condition. 

“ Yours to command, 

“J. Stagg.” 

The hardware merchant was fully as sentimental 
as the above letter indicated. If there were drops 
now in his eyes as he stooped and squinted at his 
little niece, it was because the sunlight was shining 
in his face and interfered for the moment with his 
vision. 

“Hannah’s Car’lyn,” muttered Mr. Stagg again. 
“ Bless me, child ! how did you get here from New 
York?” 

“ On the cars, uncle.” Carolyn May was glad 
he asked that question instead of saying anything 
just then about her mother and father. 

“ You see, Mr. Price thought I’d better come. 
He says you are my guardian — it’s in papa’s will, 
and would have been so in mamma’s will, if she’d 
made one. Mr. Price put me on the train and the 
conductor took care of me. Only, I rode ’most all 
the way with Prince in the baggage car. You see, he 
howled so.” 

Mr. Stagg looked askance at the dog, that yawned, 
smiled at him, and cocked his cropped ears. 

“Who is Mr. Price?” the storekeeper asked. 


6 


CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


“ He’s a lawyer. He and his family live in the 
flat right across the hall from us. He’s written you 
a long letter about it. It’s in my bag. Didn’t you 
get the telegram he sent you last evening, Uncle 
Joe? A ‘ night letter,’ he called it.” 

“ Never got it,” replied Mr. Stagg shortly. 

“ Well, you see, when papa and mamma had to go 
away so suddenly, they left me with the Prices. I 
go to school with Edna Price, and she slept with me 
at night in our flat — after the Dunraven sailed.” 

“ But — but what did this lawyer send you up here 
for? ” asked Mr. Stagg, still with an eye on the dog. 

The question was a poser, and Carolyn May stam- 
mered : “ I — I — Don’t guardians always take their 
little girls home and look out for them? ” 

“ Hum, I don’t know.” The hardware merchant 
mused grimly. “ But if your father left a will — 
However, I suppose I shall learn all about it in that 
lawyer’s letter.” 

“ Oh, yes, sir ! ” the child said, hastily turning 
to open the bag. But he interposed: 

“ We’ll wait about that, Car’lyn May. I — I guess 
we’d better go up to The Corners and see what 
Aunty Rose has to say about it. You understand, I 
couldn’t really keep you if she says 4 No ! ’ ” 

“ Oh, Uncle Joe ! couldn’t you? ” 

“ No,” he declared, wagging his head decidedly. 

“ And what she’ll say to that dog ” 

“ Oh ! ” Carolyn May cried again, and put both 
arms suddenly about the neck of her canine friend. 


THE RAY OF SUNLIGHT 


7 


“ Prince is just the best dog, Uncle Joe. He never 
quarrels, and he’s almost always got a pleasant smile. 
He’s a universal fav’rite.” 

Prince yawned again, showing two perfect rows 
of wolflike teeth. Mr. Stagg cast a glance upward 
at the perturbed tom-cat. 

“ I can see he’s a favourite with old Jimmy,” he 
said with added grimness. 

It must be confessed that Carolyn May was nerv- 
ous about Prince. She was eager to explain. 

“ You see, we’ve had him a dreadfully long time. 
Papa and I were taking a walk on a Sunday morning. 
We ’most always did, for that’s all the time papa 
had away from his work. And we walked down 
towards the Harlem River — and what do you s’pose, 
Uncle Joe? A man was carrying Prince — he was 
just a little puppy, not long got over being blind. 
And the man was going to drown him ! ” 

“ Well,” said Mr. Stagg reflectively, still eyeing 
the dog, “ it could not have been his beauty that 
saved him from a watery grave.” 

“ Oh, uncle ! I think he’s real beautiful, even if 
he is a mongorel,” sighed Carolyn May. “ Anyway, 
papa bought him from the man for a quarter, and 
Prince has been mine ever since.” 

Mr. Stagg shook his head doubtfully. Then he 
went into the office and shut the big ledger into the 
safe. After locking the safe door, he slipped the 
key into his trousers pocket, and glanced around 
the store. 


8 


CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


“ I’d like to know where that useless Gormley boy 
is now. If I ever happen to want him,” muttered 
Mr. Stagg, “ he ain’t in sight nor sound. And if I 
don’t want him, he’s right under foot.” 

“ Chet! Hey! you Chet!” 

To Carolyn May’s amazement and to the utter 
mystification of Prince, a section of the floor under 
their feet began to rise. 

“ Oh, mercy me ! ” squealed the little girl, and 
she hopped off the trapdoor; but the dog uttered a 
quick, threatening growl, and put his muzzle to the 
widening aperture. 

“ Hey! call off that dog! ” begged a muffled voice 
from under the trapdoor. “ He’ll eat me up, Mr. 
Stagg.” 

“Lie down, Prince!” commanded Carolyn May 
hastily. “ It’s only a boy. You know you like boys, 
Prince,” she urged. 

“ I sh’d think he did like ’em. Likes to eat ’em, 
don’t he?” drawled the lanky, flaxen-haired youth 
who gradually came into view through the opening 
trap. u Hey, Mr. Stagg, don’t they call dogs ‘ man’s 
cayenne friend ’ ? And there sure is some pep to 
this one. You got a tight hold on his collar, sissy? ” 

“ Come on up out o’ that cellar, Chet. I’m going 
up to The Corners with my little niece — Hannah’s 
Car’lyn. This is Chetwood Gormley. If he ever 
stops growin’ longitudinally, mebbe he’ll be a man 
some day, and not a giant. You stay right here and 
tend store while I’m gone, Chet.” 


THE RAY OF SUNLIGHT 


9 


Carolyn May could not help feeling some surprise 
at the finally revealed proportions of Chetwood 
Gormley. He was lathlike and gawky, with very 
prominent upper front teeth, which gave a sort of 
bow-window appearance to his wide mouth. But 
there was a good-humoured twinkle in the overgrown 
boy’s shallow eyes; and, if uncouth, he was kind. 

“ I’m proud to know ye, Car’lyn,” he said. He 
stepped quickly out of the way of Prince when the 
latter started for the front of the store. “ Just 
whisper to your cayenne friend that I’m one of the 
family, will you? ” 

“ Oh, Prince wouldn’t bite,” laughed the little girl 
gaily. 

“ Then he’s got a lot of perfectly useless teeth, 
hasn’t he? ” suggested Chetwood. 

“ Oh, no ” commenced the little girl. 

“ Come on, now,” said Mr. Stagg with some im- 
patience, and led the way to the door. 

Prince paced sedately along by Carolyn May’s 
side. Once out of the shop in the sunlit street, the 
little girl breathed a sigh of relief. Mr. Stagg, peer- 
ing down at her sharply, asked : 

“What’s the matter?” 

“ I — I — Your shop is awful dark, Uncle Joe,” 
she confessed. “ I can’t seem to look up in there.” 

“‘Look up’?” repeated the hardware dealer, 
puzzled. 

“ Yes, sir. My papa says never to get in any 
place where you can’t look up and see something 


10 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

brighter and better ahead,” said Carolyn May softly. 
“ He says that’s what makes life worth living.” 

“ Oh! he does, does he?” grunted Mr. Stagg. 

He noticed the heavy bag in her hand and took it 
from her. Instantly her released fingers stole into 
his free hand. Mr. Stagg looked down at the little 
hand on his palm, somewhat startled and not a little 
dismayed. To Carolyn May it was the most natural 
thing in the world to clasp hands with Uncle Joe as 
they walked, but it actually made the hardware 
dealer blush! 

The main street of Sunrise Cove on this warm 
afternoon was not thronged with shoppers. Not 
many people noticed the tall, shambling, round-shoul- 
dered man in rusty black, with the petite figure of the 
child and the mongrel dog passing that way, though 
a few idle shopkeepers looked after the trio in sur- 
prise. But when Mr. Stagg and his companions 
turned into the pleasantly shaded street that led out 
of town towards The Corners — where was the Stagg 
homestead — Carolyn May noticed her uncle become 
suddenly flustered. She saw the blood flood into his 
face and neck, and she felt his hand loosen as though 
to release her own. The little girl looked ahead 
curiously at the woman who was approaching. 

She was not a young woman — that is, not what 
the child would call young. Carolyn May thought 
she was very nice looking — tall and robust. She 
had beautiful brown hair, and a brown complexion, 
5 vith a golden-red colour in her cheeks like that of a 


THE RAY OF SUNLIGHT n 

russet apple. Her brown eyes flashed an inquiring 
glance upon Carolyn May, but she did not look at 
Mr. Stagg, nor did Mr. Stagg look at her. 

“Oh! who is that lady, Uncle Joe?” asked the 
little girl when they were out of earshot. 

“Hum!” Her uncle’s throat seemed to need 
clearing. “ That — that is Mandy Parlow — Miss 
Amanda Parlow,” he corrected himself with dignity. 

The flush did not soon fade out of his face as they 
went on in silence. 


CHAPTER II 


AN OLD-FASHIONED ROSE 

T HE street was slightly rising. The pleasant- 
looking houses on either hand had pretty 
lawns and gardens about them. Carolyn 
May Cameron thought Sunrise Cove a very lovely 
place — as was quite natural to a child brought up 
in the city. 

Prince approved of the freedom of the street, too. 
A cat crossed slowly and with dignity from curb to 
curb ahead of them, and the dog almost forgot his 
manners. 

“ Here ! ” exclaimed Mr. Stagg sharply. 
“ Haven’t you a leash for that mongrel? If we’ve 

got to take him along- ” 

“Oh, yes, Uncle Joe,” Carolyn May hastened to 
assure him. “ There’s a strap in my bag — right on 
top of the other things. Do let me get it. You see, 
Prince has had trouble with cats; they worry him.” 

“ Looks to me,” grunted Mr. Stagg, “ as though 
he’d like to worry them. What Aunty Rose will say 
to that mongrel ” 

“ Oh, dear me ! ” sighed the little girl. This 
“ Aunty Rose ” he spoke of must be a regular 
ogress! Carolyn May had opened the bag and 


12 


AN OLD-FASHIONED ROSE 


i3 


found the strong strap, and now she snapped it into 
the ring of Prince’s collar. “ You’ll just have to be 
good, now, you darling old dear!” she whispered 
to him. 

It was half a mile from Main Street to The 
Corners. There was tall timber all about Sunrise 
Cove, which was built along the shore of a deep 
inlet cutting in from the great lake, whose blue 
waters sparkled as far as one might see towards the 
south and west. 

Uncle Joe assured Carolyn May, when she asked 
him, that from the highest hill in sight one could 
see only the lake and the forest — clothed hills and 
valleys. Why, there was not a brick house any- 
where ! 

“ We don’t have any apartment houses, or jani- 
tors, or gas and electricity up here,” said Mr. Stagg 
grimly. “ But there’s lumber camps all about. 
Mebbe they’ll interest you. Lots of building going 
on all the time, too. Sunrise Cove is growing, but 
it isn’t very citified yet.” 

He told her, as they went along, of the long trains 
of cars and of the strings of barges going out of 
the Cove, all laden with timber and sawed boards, 
millstuff, ties, and telegraph poles. 

They came to the last house in the row of dwell- 
ings on this street, on the very edge of the town. 
Carolyn May saw that attached to the house was a 
smaller building, facing the roadway, with a wide- 
open door, through which she glimpsed benches and 


14 


CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


sawed lumber, while to her nostrils was wafted a 
most delicious smell of shavings. 

“ Oh, there’s a carpenter shop ! ” exclaimed Caro- 
lyn May. “ And is that the carpenter, Uncle Joe? ” 
A tall old man, lean-faced and closely shaven, with 
a hawk’s-beak nose straddled by a huge pair of silver- 
bowed spectacles, came out of the shop at that 
moment, a jack-plane in his hand. He saw Mr. 
Stagg and, turning sharply on his heel, went indoors 
again. 

“Who is he, Uncle Joe?” repeated the little 
girl. “ And, if I asked him, do you s’pose he’d give 
me some of those nice, long, curly shavings ? ” 

“ That’s Jed Parlow — and he wouldn’t give you 
any shavings; especially after having seen you with 
me,” said the hardware merchant brusquely. 

The pretty lady whose name was Parlow and the 
queer-looking old carpenter, whose name was like- 
wise Parlow, would neither look at Uncle Joe! 
Even such a little girl as Carolyn May could see 
that her uncle and the Parlows were not friendly. 
It puzzled her, but she did not feel that she could 
ask Uncle Joe about it. So she trudged by his side, 
holding to his hand and to the dog’s leash. 

The street soon became a country road, and there 
were now no passers-by. A half-cleared forest lay 
on either hand — rough pasture land. By-and-by 
they came in sight of The Corners — a place where 
another road crossed this one at right angles. Both 
were wide roads, and a little green park had been 


AN OLD-FASHIONED ROSE 


i5 


left in the middle of the way at their intersection, 
around which was a rusty iron railing. 

In one corner was a white church with a square 
tower and green blinds. This was railed around by 
rusty iron pipe, as was the graveyard behind it. At 
one side was a row of open horse sheds. In another 
of the four corners was set a big store, with a cov- 
ered porch all across the front, on which were shel- 
tered certain agricultural tools, as well as a row of 
more or less decrepit chairs — at this hour of the day 
unoccupied. 

A couple of country wagons stood before the 
store, but there was no sound of life at The Corners 
save a rhythmic “clank, clank, clank” from the 
blacksmith shop on the third corner. Carolyn May 
had a glimpse of a black-faced man in a red shirt 
and a leather apron, and with hairy arms, striking 
the sparks from a rosy iron on the anvil next the 
forge, the dull glow of the forge fire making a back- 
ground for this portrait of “ The Village Black- 
smith.” 

On the fourth corner of the crossroads stood the 
Stagg homestead — a wide, low-roofed house of 
ancient appearance, yet in good repair. The grass 
was lush under the wide-spreading maples in the 
front yard, and the keys which had fallen from these 
trees were carefully brushed into heaps on the brick 
walk for removal. Neatness was the keynote of all 
about the place. 

“Is this where you live, Uncle Joe?” asked 


1 6 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


Carolyn May breathlessly. “ Oh, what a beautiful 
big place! Aren’t there any other families with 
flats here, too? ” 

“ Bless me ! No, child,” returned the hardware 
dealer. “ I never noticed the house was any too big 
for one family.” 

“ Of course,” said the little girl, “ it isn’t so tall; 
but it’s ’most as long as a whole block of houses in 
the city. One of the short blocks, I mean. My papa 
said seven of the crosstown blocks made a mile, and 
twenty of the short blocks. So this house must be 
’most a twentieth of a mile long, Uncle Joe. It 
seems awful big for me to live in! ” 

Mr. Stagg had halted at the gate, and now looked 
down upon Carolyn May with perplexed brow. 
“ Well, we’ve got to see about that first,” he mut- 
tered. “ There’s Aunty Rose ” 

A voice calling, “Chuck! Chuck! Chuck-a- 
chuck! ” came from behind the old house. A few 
white-feathered fowls that had been in sight scur- 
ried wildly away in answer to the summons. 

Mr. Stagg, still looking at the little girl, set down 
the bag and reached for the dog’s leash. The loop 
of the latter he passed around the gatepost. 

“ I tell you what it is, Car’lyn May. You’d better 
meet Aunty Rose first alone. I’ve my fears about 
this mongrel.” 

“ Oh, Uncle Joe! ” quavered his niece. 

“ You go ahead and get acquainted with her,” 
urged Mr. Stagg. “ She don’t like dogs. They 


AN OLD-FASHIONED ROSE 


i7 

chase her chickens and run over her flower-beds. 
Aunty Rose is peculiar, I might say.” 

“ Oh, Uncle Joe ! ” repeated the little girl faintly. 

“ You’ve got to make her like you, if you want to 
live here,” the hardware dealer concluded firmly; 
“ and that’s all there is to it.” 

He gave Carolyn May a little shove up the path, 
and then stood back and mopped his brow with his 
handkerchief. Prince strained at the leash and 
whined, wishing to follow his little mistress. 

Mr. Stagg said: “ You’d better keep mighty quiet, 
dog. If you want your home address to be The 
Corners, sing small ! ” 

Carolyn May did not hear this, but disappeared 
after the fowls around the corner of the wide, vine- 
draped porch. The pleasant back yard was full of 
sunshine. On the gravel path beyond the old well, 
with its long sweep and bucket, half a hundred chick- 
ens, some guineas, and a flock of turkeys scuffled for 
grain which was being thrown to them from an 
open pan. 

That pan was held in the plump hand of a 
very dignified-looking woman, dressed in drab, and 
with a sunbonnet on her head. Her voluminous 
skirt blew about her tall figure; she was plump, but 
very upright; her cheeks were rosy; her spectacles 
sparkled; and her full lips were puckered into a 
matrix for the mellow call : 

“ Chuck! Chuck! Chuck-a-chuck ! ” 

Aunty Rose’s appearance smote the little girl with 


1 8 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


a feeling of awe. Her bonnet was so stiffly starched, 
the line of her old-fashioned stays across her plump 
shoulders was as unequivocal as a confession of faith. 
And when she turned her face to the child, the latter, 
young as she was, knew that the woman’s attitude to 
all the world was despotic. 

There was no frown on her face ; it was only calm, 
unruffled, unemotional. It simply seemed as though 
nothing, either material or spiritual, could ruffle the 
placidity of Aunty Rose Kennedy. 

She came of Quaker stock, and the serenity of 
body and spirit taught by the sect built a wall between 
her and everybody else. At least, so it seemed to 
Carolyn May. And when Aunty Rose first looked 
at her, she seemed to the child to be merely peering 
over that wall. The little girl could not get close 
enough to the woman to “ snuggle up.” 

“ Child, who are you?” asked Aunty Rose with 
some curiosity. 

The little girl told her name; but perhaps it was 
her black frock and hat that identified her in Aunty 
Rose’s mind, after all. 

“ You are Hannah Stagg’s little girl,” she said. 

“ Yes’m — if you please,” Carolyn May confessed 
faintly. 

“And how came you here alone?” 

“ If you please, Uncle Joe said I’d better prob’ly 
come ahead and get acquainted with you first.” 

“ ‘ First ’ ? What do you mean, ‘ first ’ ? ” asked 
Aunty Rose sternly. 


AN OLD-FASHIONED ROSE 


19 


“ First — before you saw Prince,” responded the 
perfectly frank little girl. “Uncle Joe thought 
maybe you wouldn’t care for dogs.” 

“Dogs!” 

“ No, ma’am. And, of course, where I live, 
Prince has to live, too. So ” 

“ So you brought the dog? ” 

“ Yes, ma’am.” 

“ Of course,” said Aunty Rose composedly, “ I 
expected you to come here. I do not know what 
Joseph Stagg expected. But I did not suppose you 
would have a dog. Where is Joseph Stagg? ” 

“ He — he’s coming.” 

“ With the dog? ” 

“ Yes, ma’am.” 

Aunty Rose seemed to take some time to digest 
this; but she made no further comment in regard to 
the matter, only saying: 

“ Let us go into the house, Car’lyn May. You 
must take off your hat and bathe your face and 
hands.” 

Carolyn May Cameron followed the stately figure 
of Aunty Rose Kennedy into the blue-and-white 
kitchen of the old house, with something of the feel- 
ings of a culprit on the way to the block. 

Such a big kitchen as it was! The little girl 
thought it must be almost as big as their whole apart- 
ment in Harlem “ put together ” — and they had a 
tiny private hall, too. There was a great, deep, 
enameled sink, with hot and cold water faucets over 


20 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


it, and a big, shiny, corrugated drainboard beside it. 
Evidently Aunty Rose was not dependent upon the 
old well in the yard for her water supply. 

There was a shining copper boiler, and a great 
range, and set tubs of stone, and a big dresser, and a 
kitchen cabinet. The walls were covered with tile 
paper and the floor with linoleum, and there were 
plenty of braided mats about to make the room seem 
livable. At the cooler end of the kitchen the supper 
table was already set — for three. 

“ Why,” mused the little girl, “ she must have sus- 
pected me,” and a warmer glow filtered into the 
heart of the “ suspected ” guest. 

It was not till afterwards that she realised that 
the extra plate on the table was a part of the old- 
time Quaker creed — the service for the Unknown 
Guest. 

“ Used to make me feel right spooky when she 
first came here,” Mr. Stagg sometimes said, “ but I 
got used to it. And it does seem hospitable.” 

The little girl took off her plain black hat, shook 
back her hair,, and patted it smooth with her hands, 
then plunged her hands and face into the basin of 
cool water Aunty Rose had drawn for her at the 
sink. The dust was all washed away and a fresh 
glow came into her flowerlike face. Aunty Rose 
watched her silently. 

Such a dignified, upright, unresponsive woman as 
she seemed standing there ! And so particular, neat, 
and immaculate was this kitchen! 


AN OLD-FASHIONED ROSE 


21 


Carolyn May, as she dried her face and hands, 
heard a familiar whine at the door. It was Prince. 
She wondered if she had at all broken the ice for him 
with Aunty Rose. 

“ Oh,” the little girl mused, “ I wonder what she 
will say to a mongorel.” 


CHAPTER III 


GOING TO BED 

M R. STAGG had fastened Prince’s strap to 
the porch rail, and he now came in with 
the bag. 

“ Is that all the child’s baggage, Joseph Stagg? ” 
asked Aunty Rose, taking it from his hand. 

“ Why — why, I never thought to ask her,” the 
man admitted. “ Have you a trunk check, Car’lyn? ” 
“ No, sir.” 

“They sent you up here with only that bag?” 
Mr. Stagg said with some exasperation. “ Haven’t 
you got any clothes but those you stand in? ” 

“ Mrs. Price said — said they weren’t suitable,” 
explained the little girl. “ You see, they aren’t 
black.” 

“ Oh! ” exploded her uncle. 

“ You greatly lack tact, Joseph Stagg,” said 
Aunty Rose, and the hardware dealer cleared his 
throat loudly as he went to the sink to perform his 
pre-supper ablutions. Carolyn May did not under- 
stand just what the woman meant. 

“Ahem!” said Uncle Joe gruffly. “ S’pose I 
ought t’ve read that letter before. What’s come of 
it, Car’lyn May?” 


22 


GOING TO BED 


23 

But just then the little girl was so deeply interested 
in what Aunty Rose was doing that she failed to hear 
him. Mrs. Kennedy brought out of the pantry a tin 
pie plate, on which were scraps of meat and bread, 
besides a goodly marrow bone. 

“ If you think the dog is hungry, Car’lyn May,” 
she said, “ you would better give him this before we 
break our fast.” 

“ Oh, Aunty Rose ! ” gasped the little girl, her 
sober face all a-smile. “ He’ll be &e-light-e d.” 

She carried the pan out to Prince. But first, see- 
ing the immaculate condition of the porch floor, she 
laid a sack down before the hungry dog and put the 
pan upon it. 

“ For, you see,” she told Aunty Rose, who stood 
in the kitchen doorway watching her, “ when he has 
a bone, he just will get grease all around. He really 
can’t help it.” 

Aunty Rose made no audible comment, but she 
seemed to view Prince with more curiosity than 
hostility. 

When the door closed again, Mrs. Kennedy went 
to the stove, and instantly, with the opening of the 
oven, the rush of delicious odour from it made 
Carolyn May’s mouth fairly water. The lunch she 
had eaten on the train seemed to have happened a 
long, long time ago. 

Such flaky biscuit — two great pans full of the 
brown beauties! Mr. Stagg sat down at the table 
and actually smiled. 


24 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

“ You never made any bread that smelt better, 
Aunty Rose,” he said emphatically. 

She had removed her sunbonnet, and her grey- 
brown hair proved to be in perfectly smooth braids 
wound about her head. She must have been well 
over sixty years of age. Uncle Joe seemed boyish 
beside her; yet Carolyn May had at first thought the 
hardware dealer a very old man. 

The little girl took her indicated place at the table 
timidly. The cloth was a red and white checked one, 
freshly ironed, as were the napkins to match. There 
was a squat old silver bowl in the middle of the 
board, full of spoons of various sizes, and also a 
castor, like a miniature carousel, holding several 
bottles of sauces and condiments. The china was 
of good quality and prettily flowered. The butter 
was iced, and there was a great glass pitcher of milk, 
which looked cool and inviting. 

“ Joseph Stagg,” said Aunty Rose, sitting down, 
“ ask a blessing.” 

Uncle Joe’s harsh voice seemed suddenly to be- 
come gentle as he reverently said grace. A tear or 
two squeezed through Carolyn May’s closed eyelids, 
for that had been her duty at home; she had said 
grace ever since she could speak plainly. 

If Aunty Rose noticed the child’s emotion, she 
made no comment, only helped her gravely to cold 
meat, stewed potatoes, and hot biscuit. 

Mr. Stagg was in haste to eat and get back to the 
store. “ Or that Chet Gormley will try to make a 


GOING TO BED 


25 

meal off some of the hardware, I guess,” he said 
gloomily. 

“ Oh, dear me, Uncle Joe ! ” exclaimed Carolyn 
May. “ If he did that, he’d die of indignation.” 

“ Huh? Oh! I guess ’twould cause indigestion,” 
agreed her uncle. 

Aunty Rose did not even smile. She sat so very 
stiff and upright in her chair that her back never 
touched the back of the chair; she was very precise 
and exact in all her movements. 

“ Bless me ! ” Mr. Stagg exclaimed suddenly. 
“What’s that on the mantel, Aunty Rose? That 
yaller letter? ” 

“ A telegram for you, Joseph Stagg,” replied 
the old lady as composedly as though the receipt 
of a telegram was an hourly occurrence at The 
Corners. 

“Well!” muttered the hardware dealer, and 
Carolyn May wondered if he were not afraid to 
express just the emotion he felt at that instant. His 
face was red, and he got up clumsily to secure the 
sealed message. 

“ Who brought it, and when? ” he asked finally, 
having read the lawyer’s night letter. 

“ A boy. This morning,” said Aunty Rose, utterly 
calm. 

“ And I never saw it this noon,” grumbled the 
hardware dealer. 

Mrs. Kennedy quite ignored any suggestion of 
impatience in Mr. Stagg’s voice or manner. But he 


2 6 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


seemed to lose taste for his supper after reading 
the telegram. 

“ Where is the letter that this Mr. Price wrote 
and sent by you, Car’lyn? ” he asked as he was about 
to depart for the store. 

The little girl asked permission to leave the table, 
and then ran to open her bag. Mr. Stagg said 
doubtfully : 

“ I s’pose you’ll have to put her somewhere — for 
the present. Don’t see what else we can do, Aunty 
Rose.” 

“ You may be sure, Joseph Stagg, that her room 
was ready for her a week ago,” Mrs. Kennedy re- 
joined, quite unruffled. 

The surprised hardware dealer gurgled some- 
thing in his throat. “ What room? ” he finally stam- 
mered. 

“ That which was her mother’s. Hannah Stagg’s 
room. It is next to mine, and she will come to no 
harm there.” 

“ Hannah’s ! ” exclaimed Mr. Stagg. “ Why, 
that ain’t been slept in since she went away.” 

“ It is quite fit, then,” said Aunty Rose, “ that it 
should be used for her child. Trouble nothing about 
things that do not concern you, Joseph Stagg,” she 
added with, perhaps, additional sternness. 

Carolyn May did not hear this. She now pro- 
duced the letter from her lawyer neighbour. 

“ There it is, Uncle Joe,” she said. “ I — I guess 
he tells you all about me in it.” 


GOING TO BED 


27 


“Hum!” said the hardware man, clearing his 
throat and picking up his hat. “ I’ll read it down at 
the store.” 

“ Shall — shall I see you again to-night, Uncle 
Joe?” the little girl asked wistfully. “You know, 
my bedtime’s half-past eight.” 

“ Well, if you don’t see me to-night again, you’ll 
be well cared for, I haven’t a doubt,” said Uncle 
Joe shortly, and went out. 

Carolyn May went soberly back to her chair. She 
did not eat much more. Somehow there seemed to 
be a big lump in her throat past which she could not 
force the food. As the dusk fell, the spirit of loneli- 
ness gripped her, and the tears pooled behind her 
eyelids, ready to pour over her cheeks at the least 
“ joggle.” Yet she was not usually a “ cry-baby ” 
girl. 

Aunty Rose was watching her more closely than 
Carolyn May supposed. After her third cup of tea 
she arose and began quietly clearing the table. The 
newcomer was nodding in her place, her blue eyes 
clouded with sleep and unhappiness. 

“ It is time for you to go to bed, Car’lyn May,” 
said Aunty Rose firmly. “ I will show you the room 
Hannah Stagg had for her own when she was a girl.” 

“ Thank you, Aunty Rose,” said the little girl 
humbly. 

She picked up the bag and followed the stately 
old woman into the back hall and up the stairway 
into the ell. Carolyn May saw that at the foot of 


28 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


the stairs was a door leading out upon the porch 
where Prince was now moving about uneasily at the 
end of his leash. She would have liked to say 
“ good-night ” to Prince, but it seemed better not to 
mention this feeling to Aunty Rose. 

The fading hues of sunset in the sky gave the 
little girl plenty of light to undress by. She thought 
the room very beautiful, too. It was large, and the 
ceiling sloped at one side; the bed was wide and 
plump looking. It had four funny, spindle-shaped 
posts, and it was covered with a bright patchwork 
quilt of many tiny squares — quite an intricate pattern, 
Carolyn May thought. 

“Do you need any help, child?” asked Mrs. 
Kennedy, standing in her soldierly manner in the 
doorway. It was dusky there, and the little girl 
could not see her face. 

“ Oh, no, ma’am,” said Carolyn May faintly. “ I 
can button and unbutton every button. I learned 
long ago. And my nightie’s right in my bag here.” 

“ Very well,” said Aunty Rose, and turned away. 
Carolyn May stood in the middle of the room and 
listened to her descending footsteps. Aunty Rose 
had not even hidden her good-night! 

Like a marooned sailor upon a desert island, the 
little girl went about exploring the bedroom which 
was to be hers — and which had once been her 
mother’s. That fact helped greatly. Her mother 
had slept in this very bed — had looked into that 
cunning, clouded glass over the dressing table — had 


GOING TO BED 


29 


sat in this very little rocking chair to take off her 
shoes and stockings — had hung her dress, perhaps, 
over this other chair. 

Carolyn May kept repeating these things as she 
divested herself of her garments and got into the 
nightgown that Mrs. Price had freshly ironed for 
her. Then she looked at the high, “ puffy ” bed. 

“How ever can I get into it?” sighed Carolyn 
May. 

She had to stand upon her tiptoes in her fluffy 
little bedroom slippers to pull back the quilt, and the 
blanket and sheet underneath it. The bed was just 
a great big bag of feathers! 

“ Just like a big, big pillow,” thought the little 
girl. “ And if I do get into it, I’m li’ble to sink 
down, and down, and dozvn, till I’m buried, and 
won’t ever be able to get up in the morning.” 

Carolyn May had never seen anything softer to 
sleep on than a mattress of pressed felt. A feather 
bed might be all right, but she felt more than a little 
shy of venturing into it. 

The window was open, and she went to it and 
looked out. A breath of honeysuckle blew in. Then, 
below, on the porch, she heard the uneasy move- 
ments of Prince. And he whined. 

“Oh, poor Princey! He doesn’t know what’s 
become of me,” thought Carolyn May. 

Downstairs, in the great kitchen, Aunty Rose was 
stepping back and forth, from table to sink, from 
sink to dresser, from dresser to pantry. As the day- 


3 o CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

light faded, she lit the lamp which swung from the 
ceiling and gave light to all the room. 

It would have been impossible for the wisest per- 
son to guess what were the thoughts in Aunty Rose’s 
mind. She might have been thinking of that sunny- 
haired, blue-eyed little girl upstairs, so lately bereft 
of those whom she loved, a stranger to-night in a new 
home, going to bed for the first time in her life alone ; 
aye, she might have been thinking of her. Or she 
might merely have been deciding in her mind whether 
to have batter cakes or waffles for breakfast. 

A glad little yelp from the dog tied to the rail of 
the porch sounded suddenly. Even Aunty Rose 
could not mistake that cry of welcome, and she knew 
very little about dogs — to their credit, at least. She 
had heard no other suspicious sound, but now she 
crossed the room with firm tread and opened the 
porch door. Yes, a little white figure was down 
there, hugging the whining mongrel; and if the latter 
could have spoken English he could have made it 
no whit plainer how glad he was to see his little 
mistress. 

Carolyn May’s tearful face was raised from 
Prince’s rough neck. 

“ Oh, Aunty Rose ! Oh, Aunty Rose ! ” she 
sobbed. “ I just had to say good-night to somebody. 
Edna’s mother came and heard our prayers and 
tucked us into my bed after my papa and mamma 
went away. So it didn’t seem so bad. 

“ But to-night — -Why ! to-night there isn’t any- 


GOING TO BED 


3i 

body cares whether I go to bed or not ! But Prince I 
Prince, he knows just how — how empty I feel!” 

The woman stood in the doorway with the light 
behind her, so Carolyn May could not see her face; 
her voice was perfectly calm when she said: 

“ You would better come in now and wash your 
face and hands again before going to bed. That 
dog has been lapping them with his tongue.” 

Sobbing, the little girl obeyed. The dog curled 
down on the porch as though satisfied, having seen 
that his little mistress was all right. The latter 
trotted over the cold linoleum to the sink and did 
as Mrs. Kennedy directed. Then she would have 
gone back up the stairs without a word had not 
Aunty Rose spoken. 

“ Come here, Carolyn May,” she said quite as 
sternly as before. 

The little girl approached her. The old lady sat 
in one of the straightest of the straight-backed chairs, 
her hands in her comfortable lap. The wet blue 
eyes were raised to her composed face timidly. 

“ If you wish to say your prayers here, before 
going upstairs, you may, Carolyn May,” she said. 

“ Oh, may I? ” gasped the little girl. 

She dropped her hands into Aunty Rose’s lap. 
Somehow they found those larger, comforting hands 
and cuddled into them as the little girl sank to her 
knees on the braided mat. 

If the simple “ Now I lay me ” was familiar to 
Aunty Rose’s ear from long ago, she gave no sign. 


32 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

When the earnest little voice added to the formal 
supplication a desire for the blessing of “ Uncle Joe 
and Aunty Rose,” the latter’s countenance retained 
its composure. 

She asked a blessing upon all her friends, includ- 
ing the Prices, and even Prince. But it was after 
that she put the timid question to Aunty Rose that 
proved to be almost too much for that good woman’s 
studied calm. 

“ Aunty Rose, do you s’pose I might ask God to 
bless my mamma and papa, even if they are lost at 
sea? Somehow, I don’t think it would seem so lone- 
some if I could keep that in my prayer.” 


CHAPTER IV 


“ WELL — SHE’LL BE A NUISANCE ” 

M R. JOSEPH STAGG, going down to his 
store, past the home and carpenter shop of 
Jedidiah Parlow, at which he did not even 
look, finally came to his destination in a very brown 
study. So disturbed had he been by the arrival of 
his little niece that he forgot to question and cross- 
question young Chetwood Gormley regarding the 
possible customers that had been in the store during 
his absence. 

“ And I tell you what I think, mother,” Chet said, 
with his mouth full, at supper that evening. “ I 
think her coming’s goin’ to bring about changes. 
Yes, ma’am ! ” 

Mrs. Gormley was a faded little woman — a 
widow — who went out sewing for better-to-do people 
in Sunrise Cove. She naturally thought her boy 
Chetwood a great deal smarter than other people 
thought him. And — as was natural, too — Chet de- 
veloped something like keenness in the sunshine of 
her approval. 

“ You know, mother,” he said, on this evening of 
the arrival of Carolyn May, “ I never have seen any 
great chance to rise, workin’ for Mr. Joseph Stagg. 
33 


34 


CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


His ain’t a business that offers an aspirin’ feller much 
advancement.” 

“ But he pays you, Chet,” his mother said 
anxiously. 

“ Yep. I know. Don’t be afraid I’ll leave him 
till I see something better,” he reassured her. “ But 
I might be clerkin’ for him till the cows come home 
and never see more’n six or eight dollars a week. 
But now it’s apt to be different.” 

“ How different, Chet?” she asked, puzzled. 

“ You know Mr. Stagg’s as hard as nails — as hard 
as the goods he sells,” declared the gawky boy. 
“ No brass hinge, or iron bolt, or copper rivet in 
his stock is any harder than he ’pears to be. Mind 
you, he don’t do nothin’ mean. That ain’t his way. 
But he don’t seem to have a mite of interest in any- 
thing but his shop. Now, it seems to me, this little 
niece is bound to wake him up. He calls her ‘ Han- 
nah’s Car’lyn.’ ” 

“ Hannah Stagg was his only sister,” said Mrs. 
Gormley softly. “ I remember her.” 

“ And she’s just died, or something, and left this 
little girl,” Chet continued. “ Mr. Stagg’s bound 
to think of something now besides business. And 
mebbe he’ll need me more. And I’ll get a chance to 
show him I’m worth something to him. So, by-and- 
by, he’ll put me forward in the business,” said the 
boy, his homely face glowing. “Who knows? 
Mebbe it’ll be Stagg & Gormley over the door one 
of these days. Stranger things have happened.” 


“ WELL — SHE’LL BE A NUISANCE 


35 


“Wouldn’t that be fine, Chet!” agreed his 
mother, taking fire at last from his enthusiasm. 
“ And you think this pretty little girl’s cornin’ here 
is goin’ to do all that? ” 

Perhaps even Chetwood’s assurance would have 
been quenched had he just then known the thoughts 
in the hardware merchant’s mind. Mr. Stagg sat 
in hi$ back office poring over the letter written by 
his brother-in-law’s lawyer friend, a part of which 
read: 

“ From the above recital of facts you will plainly 
see, being a man of business yourself, that Mr. 
Cameron’s financial affairs were in a much worse 
condition when he went away than he himself 
dreamed of. 

“ I immediately looked up the Stonebridge Build- 
ing and Loan Association. It is even more mori- 
bund than the papers state. The fifteen hundred 
dollars Mr. Cameron put into it from time to time 
might just as well have been dropped into the 
sea. 

“ You know, he had only his salary on The Morn- 
ing Beacon. They were rather decent to him, when 
they saw his health breaking down, to offer him the 
chance of going to the Mediterranean as correspond- 
ent. He was to furnish articles on * The Debris of 
a World War ’ — stories of the peaceful sections of 
Europe which have to care for the human wrecks 
from the battlefields. 


3 6 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

“ It rather cramped Mr. Cameron’s immediate 
resources for your sister to go with him, and he 
drew ahead on his expense and salary account. I 
know that Mrs. Cameron feared to allow him to go 
alone across the ocean. He was really in a bad way; 
but she proposed to come back immediately on the 
Dunraven if he improved on the voyage across. 

“ Their means really did not allow of their tak- 
ing the child; the steamship company would not hear 
of a half-fare for her. She is a nice little girl, and 
my wife would have been glad to keep her longer, 
but in the end she would have to go to you, as, I 
understand, there are no other relatives. 

“ Of course, the flat is here, and the furniture. 
If you do not care to come on to attend to the matter 
yourself, I will do the best I can to dispose of either 
or both. Mr. Cameron had paid a year’s rent in 
advance — rather an unwise thing, I thought — and 
the term has still ten months to run. He did it so 
that his wife, on her return from abroad, might have 
no worry on her mind. Perhaps the flat might be 
sublet, furnished, to advantage. You might state 
your pleasure regarding this. 

“ You will see, by the copy of your brother-in- 
law’s will that I enclose, that you have been left in 
full and sole possession and guardianship of his 
property and affairs, including Carolyn May.” 

And if somebody had shipped him a crocodile 
from the Nile, Joseph Stagg would have felt little 


“ WELL— SHE’LL BE A NUISANCE 


37 


more at a loss as to what disposal to make of the 
creature than he felt now regarding his little 
niece. 

“ Well — she’ll be a nuisance; an awful nuisance,” 
was his final comment, with a mountainous sigh. 

Thus far, Aunty Rose Kennedy’s attitude towards 
the little stranger had been the single pleasant dis- 
appointment Mr. Stagg had experienced. Aunty 
Rose was an autocrat. Joseph Stagg had never been 
so comfortable in his life as since Mrs. Kennedy 
had taken up the management of his home. But he 
stood in great awe of her. 

He put the lawyer’s letter in the safe. For once 
he was unable to respond to a written communication 
promptly. Although he wore that band of crepe on 
his arm, he could not actually realise the fact that 
his sister Hannah was dead. 

Any time these fifteen years he might have run 
down to New York to see her. First, she had 
worked in the newspaper office as a stenographer. 
Then she had married John Lewis Cameron, and 
they had gone immediately to housekeeping. 

Cameron was a busy man; he held a “ desk job ” 
on the paper. Vacations had been hard to get. 
And, before long, Hannah had written about her 
baby — “ Hannah’s Car’lyn.” 

After the little one’s arrival there seemed less 
chance than before for the city family to get up to 
Sunrise Cove. But at any time he might have gone 
to them. If Joseph Stagg had shut up his store for 


38 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

a week and gone to New York, it would not have 
brought the world to an end. 

Nor was it because he was stingy that he had not 
done this. No, he was no miser. But he was fairly 
buried in his business. And there was no “ look up ” 
in that dim little office in the back of the hardware 
store. His nose was in the big ledger all the time, 
and there was no better or brighter outlook for him. 

Business. No other interest, social or spiritual, 
had Joseph Stagg. To his mind, time was wasted, 
used in any but the three very necessary ways — eat- 
ing, sleeping, and attending to one’s business. 

He kept his store open every evening. Not be- 
cause there was trade enough to warrant it — that 
was only on Saturday nights — but what would he do 
if he did not come down after supper and sit in his 
office for a couple of hours? There he could always 
find work to do. Outside, he was at a loss for some- 
thing with which to occupy his mind. 

On this evening he closed the store later than 
usual, and set out for The Corners slowly. To tell 
the truth, Mr. Stagg rather shrank from arriving 
home. The strangeness of having a child in the 
house disturbed his tranquillity. 

The kitchen only was lighted when he approached; 
therefore, he was reassured. He knew Hannah’s 
Car’lyn must have been put to bed long since. 

It was dark under the trees, and only long famil- 
iarity with the walk enabled him to reach the back 
porch noiselessly. Then it was that something scram- 


“ WELL— SHE’LL BE A NUISANCE ” 39 

bled up in the dark, and the roar of a dog’s barking 
made Joseph Stagg leap back in fright. 

“ Drat that mongrel! ” he ejaculated, remember- 
ing Prince. 

The kitchen door opened, revealing Aunty Rose’s 
ample figure. Prince whined sheepishly and dropped 
his abbreviated tail, going to lie down again at the 
extreme end of his leash, and blinking his eyes at 
Mr. Stagg. 

“ The critter’s as savage as a bear ! ” grumbled 
the hardware merchant. 

“ He is a good watchdog; you must allow that, 
Joseph Stagg,” Aunty Rose said calmly. 

The hardware dealer gasped again. It would be 
hard to say which had startled him the most — the 
dog or Aunty Rose’s manner. 


CHAPTER V 


AUNTY ROSE UNBENDS 

T HERE never was a lovelier place for a little 
girl — to say nothing of a dog — to play in 
than the yard about the Stagg homestead; 
and this Carolyn May confided to Aunty Rose one 
forenoon after her arrival at The Corners. 

Behind the house the yard sloped down to a broad, 
calmly flowing brook. Here the goose and duck 
pens were fenced off, for Aunty Rose would not 
allow the web-footed fowl to wander at large, as 
did the other poultry. 

It was difficult for Prince to learn that none of 
these feathered folk were to be molested. He loved 
to jump into the water after a stick, and whenever 
he did so, the quacking and hissing inside the wire- 
fenced runs showed just how unpopular his dogship 
was in that community. 

There was a wide-branching oak tree on a knoll 
overlooking the brook. Around its trunk Uncle Joe 
had built a seat. Carolyn May found this a grand 
place to sit and dream, while Prince lay at her feet 
with his pink tongue out, occasionally snapping at 
a gnat. 

When they saw Aunty Rose, in her sunbonnet, 
40 


AUNTY ROSE UNBENDS 


4i 


going towards the fenced-in garden, they both 
jumped up and bounded down the slope after her. 
It was just here, at the corner of the garden fence, 
that Carolyn May had her first adventure. 

Prince, of course, disturbed the serenity of the 
poultry. The hens went shrieking one way, the 
guinea fowl lifted up their voices in angry chatter, 
the turkey hens scurried to cover, but the old turkey 
cock, General Bolivar, a big, white Holland fowl, 
was not to have his dignity disturbed and his courage 
impugned by any four-footed creature with waggish 
ears and the stump of a tail. 

Therefore, General Bolivar charged with out- 
spread wings and quivering fan. His eyesight was 
not good, however. He charged the little girl in- 
stead of the roistering dog. 

Carolyn May frankly screamed. Thirty-five 
pounds, or more, of solid meat, frame, and feathers 
catapulted through the air at one is not to be ignored. 
Had the angry turkey reached the little girl, he 
would have beaten her down, and perhaps seriously 
injured her. 

He missed her the first time, but turned to charge 
again. Prince barked loudly, circling around the 
bristling turkey cock, undecided just how to get into 
the battle. But Aunty Rose knew no fear of any- 
thing wearing feathers. 

“ Scat, you brute ! ” she cried, and made a grab 
for the turkey, gripping him with her left hand 
behind his head, bearing his long neck downward. 


42 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

In her other hand she seized a piece of lath, and with 
it chastised the big turkey across the haunches with 
vigour. 

“ Oh, don’t spank him any more, Aunty Rose ! ” 
gasped Carolyn May at last. “ He must be sorry.” 

With a final stroke Aunty Rose allowed the big 
fowl to go — and he ran away fast enough. But the 
austere Mrs. Kennedy did not consider the matter 
ended there. She had punished one culprit; now she 
turned to Prince. 

“ Your dog, child, does not know his manners. 
If he is going to stay here with you, he must learn 
that fowl are not to be chased nor startled.” 

“ Oh, Aunty Rose ! ” begged the little girl, “ don’t 
punish Prince ! Not — not that way. Please, don’t ! 
Why, he’s never been spanked in his life ! He 
wouldn’t know what it meant. Dear Aunty 
Rose ” 

“ I shall not beat him, Car’lyn May,” interrupted 
Aunty Rose. “ But he must learn his lesson. He 
has never run at liberty in his life before, as he does 
here, I warrant.” 

“ Oh, no, ma’am; he never has. Only in the park 
early in the morning. Papa used to take him out 
for a run before he went to bed. The policemen 
didn’t mind if Prince was off his leash then.” 

“ ‘ Before he went to bed?’” repeated Aunty 
Rose curiously. “ What time did your papa go to 
bed, pray? ” 

“ Why, he worked on a morning paper, you see, 


AUNTY ROSE UNBENDS 


43 


and he didn’t get home till ’most sunrise — in sum- 
mer, I mean. He slept in the forenoon.” 

11 Oh, such a way to live ! ” murmured Aunty 
Rose, scandalised. Then she returned to the subject 
of Prince’s punishment. “ Your dog must learn that 
liberty is not license. Bring him here, Car’lyn May.” 

She led the way to an open coop of laths in the 
middle of the back yard. This was a hutch in which 
she put broody hens when she wished to break up 
their desire to set. She opened the gate of it and 
motioned Prince to enter. 

The dog looked pleadingly at his little mistress’ 
face, then into the woman’s stern countenance. See- 
ing no reprieve in either, with drooping tail he slunk 
into the cage. 

With one hand clutching her frock over her heart, 
Carolyn May’s big blue eyes overflowed. 

“ It’s just as if he was arrested,” she said. “ Poor 
Prince ! Has he got to stay there always , Aunty 
Rose?” 

“ He’ll stay till he learns his lesson,” said Mrs. 
Kennedy grimly, and went on into the garden. 

Carolyn May sat down close to the side of the 
cage, thrust one hand between the slats, and held 
one of the dog’s front paws. She had hoped to go 
into the garden to help Aunty Rose pick peas, but 
she could not bear to leave Prince alone. 

By-and-by Mrs. Kennedy came up from the gar- 
den, her pan heaped with pods. She looked neither 
in the direction of the prisoner nor at his little mis- 


44 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

tress. Carolyn May wanted awfully to shell the 
peas. She liked to shell peas, and Aunty Rose had 
more in her pan than the little girl had ever shelled 
at one time at home. 

Prince whined and lay down. He had begun to 
realise now that this was no play, at all, but punish- 
ment. He blinked his eyes at Carolyn May and 
looked as sorry as ever a dog with cropped ears and 
an abbreviated tail could look. 

The hutch was under a wide-branching tree. It 
was shady, and the bees hummed. A motherly hen 
with thirteen black chickens paraded by. 

“ I wonder,” thought Carolyn May dozily, “ how 
the mother can be so white and her family can be so 
black. I believe there must be a mistake somewhere. 
Suppose they shouldn’t turn out to be chickens at 
all, but crows! Maybe she was fooled about the 
eggs. You often are fooled about eggs, you know. 
You can’t tell by the outside of an eggshell whether 
what’s inside is fresh or not. 

“ And if those are little crows, and not chicks, 
they’ll fly right up into the air some day and leave 
her, and go sailing off across the brook, saying, 

‘ Caw ! Caw ! Caw ! ’ 

“Why, there they go now!” gasped Carolyn 
May — only, she thought she gasped, just as she 
thought she saw the baker’s dozen of chicks flying 
across the brook — for she was fast asleep and 
dreaming. 

Prince slept, too, and fought imaginary battles 


AUNTY ROSE UNBENDS 


45 

with the turkey cock in his dreams, jerking all four 
of his legs, and growling dreadfully. Carolyn May 
went wandering through fairyland, perhaps follow- 
ing the chicken-crows she had first imagined. 

The peas and potatoes were cooking for dinner 
when Aunty Rose appeared again. There was the 
little girl, all of a dewy sleep, lying on the grass by 
the prison-pen. Aunty Rose would have released 
Prince, but, though he wagged his stump of a tail 
at her and yawned and blinked, she had still her 
doubts regarding a mongrel’s good nature. 

She could not allow the child to sleep there, how- 
ever; so, stooping, picked up Carolyn May and 
carried her comfortably into the house, laying her 
down on the sitting-room couch to have her nap 
out — as she supposed, without awakening her. 

It had been many a long day since Aunty Rose 
Kennedy had stood over a sleeping child and watched 
the silky eyelashes flutter and the breath part the 
rosy lips ever so little. Carolyn May’s limbs were 
dimpled; her golden hair was wavy, though it did 
not curl; she was sweet and lovable in every way. 

Aunty Rose came away softly and closed the door, 
and while she finished getting dinner she tried to 
make no noise which would awaken the child. 

Mr. Stagg came home at noon, quite as full of 
business as usual. To tell the truth, Mr. Stagg 
always felt bashful in Aunty Rose’s presence; and 
he tried to hide his affliction by conversation. So he 
talked steadily through the meal. 


4 6 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

But somewhere — about at the pie course, it was — 
he stopped and looked around curiously. 

“Bless me! ” he exclaimed, “where’s Hannah’s 
Car’lyn? ” 

“ Taking a nap,” said Aunty Rose composedly. 

“ Hum! can’t the child get up to her victuals? ” 
demanded Mr. Stagg. “ You begin serving that 
young one separately and you’ll make yourself work, 
Aunty Rose.” 

“ Never trouble about that which doesn’t concern 
you, Joseph Stagg,” responded his housekeeper 
rather tartly. “ The Lord has placed the care of 
Hannah’s Car’lyn on you and me, and I shall do my 
share, and do it proper.” 

Mr. Stagg shook his head and lost interest in his 
wedge of berry pie. “ There are institutions — ” he 
began weakly; but Aunty Rose said quickly: 

“ Joseph Stagg! I know you for what you are — 
other people don’t. If the neighbours heard you 
say that, they’d think you were a heathen. Your own 
sister’s child! 

“ Now, you send Tim, the hackman, up after me 
this afternoon. I’ve got to go shopping. The child 
hasn’t a thing to wear but that fancy little black 
frock, and she’ll ruin that playing around. She’s got 
to have frocks, and shoes, and another hat — all sorts 
of things. Seems a shame to dress a child like her 
in black — it’s punishment. Makes her affliction 
double, I do say.” 

“ Well, I suppose we’ve got to flatter Custom, or 


AUNTY ROSE UNBENDS 


47 

Custom will weep,” growled Mr. Stagg. “ But 
where the money’s coming from ” 

“Didn’t Car’lyn’s pa leave her none?” asked 
Aunty Rose promptly. 

u Well — not what you’d call a fortune,” admitted 
Mr. Stagg slowly. 

“ Thanks be, you’ve got plenty, then. And if you 
haven’t, I have,” said the woman in a tone that quite 
closed the question of finances. 

“ Which shows me just where I get off at,” mut- 
tered Joseph Stagg as he started down the walk for 
the store. “ I knew that young one would be a 
nuisance.” 


CHAPTER VI 


MR. JEDIDIAH PARLOW 

C AROLYN MAY, who was quite used to tak- 
ing a nap on the days that she did not go to 
school, woke up, as bright as a newly minted 
dollar, very soon after her Uncle Joe left for the 
store. 

“ I’m awfully sorry I missed him,” she confided 
to Aunty Rose when she danced into the kitchen. 
“ You see, I want to get acquainted with Uncle Joe 
just as fast as possible. And he’s at home so little, 
I guess that it’s going to be hard to do it.” 

“ Oh, is that so? And is it going to be hard to 
get acquainted with me?” asked the housekeeper 
curiously. 

“ Oh, no ! ” cried Carolyn May, snuggling up to 
the good woman and patting her plump, bare arm. 
“ Why, I’m getting ’quainted with you fast, Aunty 
Rose! You heard me say my prayers, and when 
you laid me down on the couch just now you kissed 
me.” 

Aunty Rose actually blushed. “ There, there, 
child! ” she exclaimed. “ You’re too noticing. Eat 
your dinner, that I’ve saved warm for you.” 

48 


MR. JEDIDIAH PARLOW 49 

“ Isn’t Prince to have any dinner, Aunty Rose? ” 
asked the little girl. 

“ You may let him out, if you wish, after you have 
had your own dinner. You can feed him under the 
tree. But stand by and keep the hens away, for hens 
haven’t any more morals than they have teeth, and 
they’ll steal from him. I don’t want him to snap any 
of their heads off before they’re ready for the pot.” 

“ Oh, Aunty Rose,” said Carolyn May seriously, 
“ he’s too polite. He wouldn’t do such a thing. 
Really, you don’t know yet what a good dog 
Prince is.” 

Carolyn May was very much excited about an 
hour later when a rusty, closed hack drew up to the 
front gate of the Stagg place and stopped. She and 
Prince were then playing in the front yard — at least, 
she was stringing maple keys into a long, long chain 
(a delight heretofore unknown to the little city girl), 
and the dog was watching her with wrinkling nose 
and blinking eyes. 

An old man with a square-cut chin whisker and 
clothing and hat as rusty as the hack itself held the 
reins over the bony back of the horse that drew the 
ancient equipage. 

“ I say, young’un, ain’t ye out o’ yer bailiwick?” 
queried Tim, the hackman, staring at the little girl 
in the Stagg yard. 

Carolyn May stood up quickly and tried to look 
over her shoulder and down her back. It was hard 
to get all those buttons buttoned straight. 


50 


CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


“ I don’t know,” she said, perturbed. “ Does it 
show?” 

“ Huh? ” grunted Tim. “ Does what show? ” 

“ What you said,” said Carolyn May accusingly. 
“ I don’t believe it does.” 

“ Hey! ” chuckled the hack driver suddenly. “ I 
meant, do you ’low Mrs. Kennedy knows you’re play- 
ing in her front yard? ” 

“Aunty Rose? Why, of course! ” Carolyn May 
declared. “ Don’t you know I live here ? ” 

“ Live here? Get out! ” exclaimed the surprised 
hackman. 

“ Yes, sir. And Prince, too. With my Uncle 
Joe and Aunty Rose.” 

“Pitcher of George Washington!” ejaculated 
Tim. “ You don’t mean Joe Stagg’s taken a young- 
’un to board? ” 

“ He’s my guardian,” said the little girl primly. 

“ ‘ Guardian ’ ? ” repeated the hackman, puzzled. 
“ You don’t mean you’re one o’ them fresh-airs, 
be ye? ” 

Carolyn May was quite as much puzzled by that 
expression as she had been by “ bailiwick.” She 
shook her head. 

“ I don’t think I am,” she confessed. “ Mrs. 
Price said I was an orphan. Is that anything like a 
fresh-air? ” 

“ Most of them is,” the hackman said senten- 
tiously. “ But here’s Mrs. Kennedy.” 

Aunty Rose appeared. She wore a close bonnet, 


MR. JEDIDIAH PARLOW 51 

trimmed very plainly, and carried a parasol of drab 
silk. Otherwise, she had not changed her usual 
attire, save to remove the voluminous apron she 
wore when at her housework. 

“ I would take you with me, child,” she said, 
looking at Carolyn May, “ only I don’t know what 
to do with that dog. I suppose he would tear the 
house down if we shut him in?” 

“ I expect so,” admitted the little girl. 

“ And if he was outside, he would follow the 
hack?” 

u Yes, ma’am,” agreed Carolyn May again. 

“ Then you’ll have to stay at home and watch 
him,” said Aunty Rose decisively. “ I always claimed 
a dog was a nuisance.” 

Between Uncle Joe and Aunty Rose, both of the 
visitors at the Stagg place were proving to be 
nuisances. 

Aunty Rose climbed into the creaky old vehicle. 

u Are you going to be gone long? ” asked Carolyn 
May politely. 

“ Not more than two hours, child,” said the 
housekeeper. “ Nobody will bother you here ” 

“ Not while that dog’s with her, I reckon,” put 
in Tim, the hackman. 

“ May I come down the road to meet you, Aunty 
Rose? ” asked the little girl. “ I know the way to 
Uncle Joe’s store.” 

“ I don’t know any reason why you can’t come to 
meet me,” replied Mrs. Kennedy. “ Anyway, you 


52 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

can come along the road as far as the first house. 
You know that one? ” 

“ Yes, ma’am. Mr. Parlow’s,” said Carolyn 
May. 

“ She knows her way ’round, I warrant,” put in 
Tim. 

“ Very well, child,” said Aunty Rose, and the bony 
old horse started slowly down the dusty road. Car- 
olyn May stood at the gate and watched it wabble 
away. The hush of the afternoon wrapped the place 
about. Such a stir as there had been about The 
Corners in the forenoon seemed to have been quite 
quenched. Not even the clank of iron on iron from 
the blacksmith shop was now audible. 

Carolyn May went back into the yard and sat on 
the front-porch steps, and Prince, yawning unhap- 
pily, curled down at her feet. There did not seem 
to be much to do at this place. The little girl lost 
interest in the maple-key chain which Aunty Rose 
had shown her how to make. 

She had time now, had Carolyn May, to compare 
The Corners with the busy Harlem streets with 
which she had been familiar all her life. At this 
time of the afternoon the shady sides of the cross 
streets and the west side of the avenues were a-bustle 
with baby carriages and children, with nurses and 
mothers. And there were street pianos, and penny 
peep shows, and ice-cream-cone peddlers, and 
wagons, and many automobiles. 

“ Goodness me! ” thought Carolyn May, startled 


MR. JEDIDIAH PARLOW 53 

by her own imagination, “ suppose all the folks in 
all these houses around here were dead! ” 

They might have been, for all the human noises 
she heard. She could count seven dwellings from 
where she sat on the Stagg porch, and there were 
others not in sight. No apparent life at the black- 
smith shop ; none at the store. Not even a vehicle 
on the road, now that the hack had crawled out of 
view towards Sunrise Cove. 

“ Goodness me ! ” she said again, and this time 
she jumped up, startling Prince from his nap. 
“ Maybe there is a spell cast over all this place,” 
she went on. “Everybody has been put to sleep, 
just like in a fairy story. I don’t know whether a 
little girl who isn’t asleep can wake ’em up, or 
whether it must be a prince. 

“ Why, Princey,” she added, looking at the dog, 
“ maybe it will be you that wakes ’em up. Anyway, 
let’s go and see if we can find somebody that’s 
alive.” 

They went out of the yard together and took the 
dusty road towards the town. They passed the 
broad front of the church, its windows like so many 
blind eyes, and the little girl peered timidly over the 
rusty railing into the neglected churchyard, where 
many of the headstones were moss-grown and 
toppling. 

“ This is just the very deadest place,” murmured 
Carolyn May. “ And I guess these folks buried 
here aren’t much quieter than the live folks. Oh, 


54 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

dear me ! these folks here at The Corners don’t look 
up to brighter things any more than the folks that 
are under ground. Why, maybe Vll get that way if 
I stay here ! And I know Papa Cameron wouldn’t 
approve of that!” 

She sighed, and trudged on in the dust. The per- 
spiration began to trickle down her pink face. The 
powdery dust rose from beneath her feet and was 
drifted over the wayside grass and weeds by the 
fretful breeze. 

Prince paced on by her side, his nose wrinkling at 
the strange odours the breeze brought to his nos- 
trils. A toad hopped suddenly out of its ambuscade 
beside the path, and Prince jumped. 

“ Don’t touch the toad, Princey,” said the little 
girl. “ You know we learned about toads at school 
— and how good they are. And there was one in 
Central Park — don’t you ’member?” 

A minute later, however, as they went on, some- 
thing flashed into view on the top rail of the* bound- 
ary fence. It brought a yelp of delight from Prince 
and a startled cry to Carolyn May’s lips. 

“ A squirrel ! ” 

Prince leaped for the fence. With a whisk of 
its tail, the squirrel went up the bole of the nearest 
tree, and out on one of the branches, right over their 
heads. 

Prince danced about madly in the dust and yelped. 

“ You silly thing, you,” the little girl told him. 
“ You know you can’t climb that tree.” 


MR. JEDIDIAH PARLOW 55 

The squirrel chattered angrily overhead. 

“ Now, come away/’ Carolyn May commanded. 
“ Don’t you see you’ve made that squirrel mad at 
you? You’ll never make friends out here in the 
country, if you act this way, Princey.” 

Prince seemed little impressed by this prophecy, 
but he followed after his little mistress and left the 
squirrel to its own devices. They soon came in sight 
of the Parlow house and carpenter shop. 

“ We can’t go beyond that,” said Carolyn May. 
“ Aunty Rose told us not to. And Uncle Joe says 
the carpenter-man isn’t a pleasant man.” 

She looked wistfully at the premises. The cot- 
tage seemed quite as much under the “ spell ” as had 
been those dwellings at The Corners. But from the 
shop came the sound of a plane shrieking over a long 
board. 

“ Oh, Princey!” gasped Carolyn May. “I 
b’lieve he’s making long, curly shavings ! ” 

If there was one thing Carolyn May adored, it 
was curls. Because her own sunny hair was almost 
perfectly straight, she thought the very loveliest 
thing a fairy godmother could do for her was to fit 
her out with a perfect suit of curls. 

There had been a carpenter shop only two blocks 
from where she lived in Harlem, and she and her 
friend, Edna Price, had sometimes gone there and 
begged a few curly shavings with which to bedeck 
themselves. But they could never get as many shav- 
ings as they wanted there, for the man swept them up 


56 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

every day and put them in bags, to be sold for 
baling. 

But here, at this carpenter’s shop, she had seen, 
only the afternoon before, great heaps of the most 
beautiful, curly, smelly shavings ! She drew nearer, 
her hand upon Prince’s collar, and stood looking at 
the old man with the silver-bowed spectacles pushing 
away at the jack-plane. 

Suddenly, Mr. Jedidiah Parlow looked up and 
saw the wistful, dust-streaked face under the black 
hat-brim and above the black frock. He stared at 
her for fully a minute, poising the plane over his 
work. Then he put it down and came to the door 
of the shop. 

“ You’re Hannah Stagg’s little girl, aren’t you? ” 
he asked in a voice Carolyn May thought almost as 
dry as his shavings. 

“ Yes, sir,” she said, and sighed. Dear me, he 
knew who she was right away ! There would not be 
any chance of her getting a suit of long curls. 

“ You’ve come here to live, have you? ” said Mr. 
Parlow slowly. 

“ Yes, sir. You see, my papa and mamma were 
lost at sea — with the Dunraven. It was a mistake, I 
guess,” sighed the little girl, “ for they weren’t fight- 
ing anybody. But the Dunraven got in the way of 
some ships that were fighting, in a place called the 
Mediterranean Ocean, and the Dunraven was sunk, 
and only a few folks were saved from it. My papa 
and mamma weren’t saved.” 


MR. JEDIDIAH PARLOW 57 

“ So?” said the carpenter, pushing his big spec- 
tacles up to his forehead. “ I read about it. Too 
bad — too mighty bad! I remember Hannah Stagg,” 
he added, winking his eyes, Carolyn May thought, a 
good deal as Prince did. “ You look like her.” 

“ Do I? ” Carolyn May returned, drawing nearer. 
“ I’m glad I do. And I’m glad I sleep in what used 
to be her bed, too. It doesn’t seem so lonesome.” 

“So? I reckoned you’d be lonesome up there at 
The Corners,” said the carpenter. “ Is that your 
dog? ” 

“ He’s Prince — yes, sir,” Carolyn May said, look- 
ing at the panting mongrel proudly. “ He’s a splen- 
did dog. I know he must be valuable, even if he is a 
mongorel. He got his paw hurt once, and papa 
and I took him to a vetrernary. 

“ A vetrernary,” explained Carolyn May, “ is a 
dog doctor. And I heard this one tell my papa that 
there must be blood of ’most all kinds of dogs there 
was in Prince’s veins. There aren’t many dogs like 
him.” 

“ No, I reckon not. Not many have such a pedi- 
gree,” admitted the carpenter, taking up his plane. 
Then he squinted curiously across it at Carolyn May. 
“ I guess your papa was some different from Joe 
Stagg, wasn’t he? ” 

“Oh, yes; he didn’t look much like Uncle Joe. 
You see, they aren’t really related,” explained Caro- 
lyn May innocently. 

Mr. Parlow grunted and stripped another shaving 


5 8 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

from the edge of the board he was planing. Carolyn 
May’s eager eyes followed that curling ribbon, and 
her lips parted. There were just bushels of shavings 
lying all about the shop — and Uncle Joe said Mr. 
Parlow would not give away a single one ! 

The carpenter paused before pushing the plane a 
second time the length of the board. “ Don’t you 
want a drink of water, little girl? ” he asked. 

“ Oh, yes, sir — I would. And I know Prince 
would like a drink,” she told him quickly. 

“ Go right around to the well in the back yard,” 
said Mr. Parlow. “ You’ll find a glass there — and 
Mandy keeps a pan on the well-curb for the dogs 
and cats.” 

“Thank you; I’ll go,” the little girl said, and 
started around by the green lane to the yard behind 
the cottage and the carpenter shop. 

She hoped she would see Miss Amanda Parlow; 
but she saw nobody. The well was like the one in 
the Stagg back yard — it had a sweep and a smooth 
pole and chain that lowered the bucket into the depth 
of the shaft. 

But it seemed as though somebody must have 
known the little girl was coming, for a dripping 
bucket of water had just been lifted upon the shelf, 
and the pan on the well-curb was filled. Prince 
lapped up the water from this eagerly. 

All the time Carolyn May was getting her drink 
she felt she was being watched. She gazed frankly 
all about, but saw nobody. The green blinds were 


59 


MR. JEDIDIAH PARLOW 

tightly closed over the cottage windows; yet the 
child wondered if somebody inside was not looking 
out at her. Was it the nice-looking lady she had 
seen the day before — Miss Amanda, who would not 
look at Uncle Joe ? 

She went back to the door of the carpenter shop 
and found Mr. Parlow still busily at work. 

“ Seems to me,” he said, in his dry voice, after a 
little while, u you aren’t much like other little girls.” 

“ Aren’t I ? ” responded Carolyn May wonder- 
ingly. 

“ No. Most little girls that come here want shav- 
ings to play with,” said the carpenter, quizzically 
eyeing her over his work. 

“ Oh ! ” cried Carolyn May, almost jumping. 
“ And do you give ’em to ’em? ” 

“ ’Most always,” admitted Mr. Parlow. 

“ Oh ! Can / have some ? ” she gasped. 

“ All you want,” said Mr. Parlow, and perhaps 
that funny noise he made in his throat was as near 
to a laugh as he ever got. 

When Tim’s old hack crawled along the road 
from town, with Aunty Rose sitting inside, enthroned 
amidst a multitude of bundles, Carolyn May was 
bedecked with a veritable wig of long, crisp curls, 
each carefully thrust under the brim of her hat. 
And when she shook the curls, Prince barked at her. 

u Well, child, you certainly have made a mess of 
yourself,” said the housekeeper. “ Has she been 
annoying you, Jedidiah Parlow? ” 


6o CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


“ She’s the only Stagg that ain’t annoyed me since 
her mother went away,” said the carpenter gruffly. 

Aunty Rose looked at him levelly. “ I wonder,” 
she said. “ But, you see, she isn’t wholly a Stagg.” 

This, of course, did not explain matters to Caro- 
lyn May in the least. Nor did what Aunty Rose 
said to her on the way home in the hot, stuffy hack 
help the little girl to understand the trouble between 
her uncle and Mr. Parlow. 

“ Better not let Joseph Stagg see you so friendly 
with Jedidiah Parlow. Let sleeping dogs lie,” Mrs. 
Kennedy observed. 


CHAPTER VII 


A TRAGIC SITUATION 

S UCH was the introduction of Carolyn May to 
The Corners. It was not a very exciting life 
she had entered into, but the following two or 
three weeks were very full. 

Aunty Rose insisted upon her being properly fitted 
out with clothing for the summer and fall. Mrs. 
Price sent on by express certain of the child’s pos- 
sessions that would be useful, but Aunty Rose de- 
clared the local seamstress must make a number of 
dresses for Carolyn May. The latter had to go to 
the dressmaker’s house to be fitted, and that is 
how she became acquainted with Chet Gormley’s 
mother. 

Mrs. Gormley was helping the dressmaker, and 
they both made much of Carolyn May. Aunty Rose 
allowed her to go for her fittings alone — of course, 
with Prince as a companion — so, without doubt, 
Mrs. Gormley, who loved a “ dish of gossip,” talked 
more freely with the little girl than she would have 
done in Mrs. Kennedy’s presence. 

One afternoon the little girl appeared at the 
dressmaker’s (it was only two houses nearer the 
centre of Sunrise Cove than the Parlow cottage) 

6l 


62 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


with Prince’s collar decorated with short, curly shav- 
ings. This Elizabethan ruff may or may not have 
caused the dog to look “ extinguished,” as Carolyn 
May pointed out, but it certainly made him uncom- 
fortable. However, he endured this dressing-up to 
please his little mistress. 

“ I take it you’ve stopped at Jed Parlow’s shop, 
child,” said Mrs. Gormley with a sigh. 

“ Yes, ma’am,” returned Carolyn May. “ Do you 
know, he’s very lib’ral.” 

“ ‘ Lib’ral ’ ? ” repeated Mrs. Gormley. “ I never 
heard of old Jed Parlow bein’ accused of that be- 
fore. Did you, Mrs. Maine? ” 

Mrs. Maine was the dressmaker; and she bit off 
her words when she spoke, much as she bit off her 
threads. 

“ No. I never — heard Jed Parlow — called that — 
no! ” declared Mrs. Maine emphatically. 

“ Why, yes,” little Carolyn May said quite 
eagerly, “ he gives me all the shavings I want. I — I 
guess folks don’t just understand about Mr. Parlow,” 
she added, remembering what her uncle had first 
said about the carpenter. “ He^ real lib’ral.” 

“ It’s a wonder to me,* drawled Mrs. Gormley, 
“ that he has a thing to do with a certain party , Mrs. 
Maine, considerin’ how hjs daughter feels towards 
that certain party } s relation. What d’you think? ” 

“ I guess — there’s sumpin — to be said — on both 
sides — o’ that controversy,” responded the dress- 
maker. 


A TRAGIC SITUATION 


63 

“ Meanin’ that mebbe a certain party* s relative 
feels just as cross as Mandy Parlow?” suggested 
Mrs. Gormley. 

“ Yep,” agreed the other woman, biting off her 
answer and her thread at the same instant. 

Carolyn May listened, much puzzled. She won- 
dered just who “ a certain party ” could be. It 
sounded very mysterious. 

Mrs. Maine was called away upon some house- 
hold task, and Mrs. Gormley seemed to change the 
subject of conversation. 

“ Don’t your uncle, Mr. Stagg, ever speak to you 
about Mandy Parlow? ” she asked the little girl. 

Carolyn May had to think about this before 
answering. Then she remembered. 

“ Oh, yes,” she said brightly. 

“ He does? Do tell! ” exclaimed Mrs. Gormley 
eagerly. “ What does he say? ” 

“ Why, he says her name is Miss Amanda 
Parlow.” 

Mrs. Gormley flushed rather oddly and glanced 
at the child with suspicion. But little Carolyn May 
was perfectly frank and ingenuous. 

u Humph!” ejaculated Chet’s mother. “He 
never says nothing about bein’ in love with Mandy, 
does he? They was goin’ with each other steady 
once.” 

The little girl looked puzzled. 

“ When folks love each other they look at each 
other and talk to each other, don’t they? ” she'asked. 


64 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

“ Well — yes — generally,” admitted Mrs. Gorm- 
ley. 

“ Then my Uncle Joe and Miss Amanda Parlow 
aren’t in love,” announced Carolyn May with confi- 
dence, “ for they don’t even look at each other.” 

“ They used to. Why, Joseph Stagg and Mandy 
Parlow was sweethearts years and years ago ! Long 
before your mother left these parts, child.” 

“ That was a long time ’fore I was horned,” said 
the little girl wonderingly. 

“ Oh, yes. Everybody that went to The Corners’ 
church thought they’d be married.” 

“ My Uncle Joe and Miss Mandy? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Then, what would have become of A.vnty 
Rose?” queried Carolyn May. 

“ Oh, Mrs. Kennedy hadn’t gone to keep house 
for Mr. Stagg then,” replied Mrs. Gormley. “ He 
tried sev’ral triflin’ critters there at the Stagg place 
before she took hold.” 

Carolyn May looked at Mrs. Gormley encourag- 
ingly. She was very much interested in Uncle Joe 
and Miss Amanda Parlow’s love affair. 

“ Why didn’t they get married — like my papa 
and mamma? ” she asked. 

“ Oh, goodness knows ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Gorm- 
ley. “ Some says ’twas his fault and some says ’twas 
hern. And mebbe ’twas a third party’s that I might 
mention, at that ” added Mrs. Gormley, pursing up 
her lips in a very knowing way. 


A TRAGIC SITUATION 


65 

Here was another mysterious “ party ” ! Carolyn 
May wondered if this “ party ” could be related to 
the “ certain party ” who seemed so familiar to both 
of the “ dressmaking ladies.” 

“ You couldn’t get nothin’ out of either Mr. Stagg 
or Mandy about it, I don’t believe. They’re both as 
tight-mouthed as clams,” pursued Mrs. Gormley. 
“ But one day,” she said, growing confidential, “ it 
was in camp-meeting time — one day somebody seen 
Joe Stagg drivin’ out with another girl — Charlotte 
Lenny, that was. She was married to a man over in 
Springdale long ago. Mr. Stagg took Charlotte to 
Faith Camp Meeting. 

“ Then, the very next week, Mandy went with 
Evan Peckham to a barn dance at Crockett’s, and 
nobody ain’t ever seen your uncle and Mandy Parlow 
speak since, much less ever walk together. 

“ Now stand up, child, and let’s see if this frock 
fits. I declare, your uncle is a-fittin’ you out right 
nice.” 

If the truth were told, Uncle Joe did not agree to 
the making of all these “ frocks and furbelows ” for 
Hannah’s Car’lyn without the filing of some objec- 
tions. 

“ I tell you, Aunty Rose,” he said to his austere 
housekeeper (and it took courage for him to say 
this), “ I tell you the child will get it into her head 
that she can always have all these things. Her father 
didn’t leave anything — scarcely any money at all. I 
don’t suppose, if I sell out that flat, I’d get a hundred 


66 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


dollars for it. How are all these frocks and furbe- 
lows going to be paid for? ” 

“ You can stop in at the First National, Joseph 
Stagg, and draw enough out of my account to pay 
for them,” said Aunty Rose placidly. 

“Huh? I guess not!” ejaculated the hardware 
dealer angrily. “ I can pay my just debts yet, I 
hope — and them of Hannah’s Car’lyn, too. If 
there’s money got to be spent on the child, I’m the 
one to spend it.” 

“ Then don’t talk as though you were afraid the 
sheriff was going to tack a notice on your store door 
to-morrow morning,” returned the old lady tartly. 
To herself she observed, out of his hearing: “ It will 
do Joseph Stagg good to learn to spend money, as 
well as to make it.” 

But Mr. Stagg did not take kindly to this, nor to 
other innovations that the coming of Carolyn May 
to The Corners brought about. Especially was he 
outspoken about Prince. That faithful follower of 
“ Hannah’s Car’lyn ” he failed to discover any use 
for or any good in. 

Prince was a friendly creature, and he did not 
always display good judgment in showing his affec- 
tion. In his doggish mind he could not see why Mr. 
Stagg did not like him; he approved of Mr. Stagg 
very much indeed. 

One particularly muddy day he met the returning 
hardware merchant at the gate with vociferous bark- 
ings and a plain desire to implant a welcoming tongue 


A TRAGIC SITUATION 


67 

on the man’s cheek. He succeeded in muddying Mr. 
Stagg’s suit with his front paws, and almost cast the 
angry man full length into a mud puddle. 

“ Drat the beast! ” ejaculated Mr. Stagg. “ I’d 
rather have an epileptic fit loose around here than 
him. Now, look at these clo’es ! I declare, Car’lyn, 
you’ve jest got to tie that mongrel up — and keep 
him tied ! ” 

“All the time, Uncle Joe?” whispered the little 
girl. 

“ Yes, ma’am, all the time! If I find him loose 
again, I’ll tie a bag of rocks to his neck and drop 
him in the deepest hole in the brook. He’d oughter 
been drowned by that man when he was a pup.” 

After this awful threat, Prince lived a precarious 
existence, and his mistress was much worried for 
him. Never, when Uncle Joe was at home, could 
the dog have a run. Aunty Rose said nothing, but 
she saw that both the little girl and her canine friend 
were very unhappy. 

Mrs. Kennedy, however, had watched Mr. Joseph 
Stagg for years. Indeed, she had known him as a 
boy, long before she had closed up her own little 
cottage around on the other road and come to the 
Stagg place to save the hardware merchant from 
the continued reign of those “ trifling creatures ” 
of whom Mrs. Gormley had spoken. 

As a bachelor, Joseph Stagg had been preyed 
upon by certain female harpies so prevalent in a 
country community. Some had families whom they 


68 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


partly supported out of Mr. Stagg’s larder; some 
were widows who looked upon the well-to-do mer- 
chant as a marrying proposition. 

Aunty Rose Kennedy did not need the position of 
Mr. Stagg’s housekeeper and could not be accused 
of assuming it from mercenary motives. Over her 
back fence she had seen the havoc going on in the 
Stagg homestead after Hannah Stagg went to the 
city and Joseph Stagg’s final female relative had 
died and left him alone in the big house. 

One day the old Quaker-like woman could stand 
no more. She put on her sunbonnet, came around 
by the road to the front door of the Stagg house, 
which she found open, and walked through to the 
rear porch on which the woman who then held 
the situation of housekeeper was wrapping up 
the best feather bed and pillows in a pair of the 
best home-spun sheets, preparatory to their re- 
moval. 

The neighbours enjoyed what followed. Aunty 
Rose came through the ordeal as dignified and un- 
ruffled as ever; the retiring incumbent went away 
wrathfully, shaking the dust of the premises from 
her garments as a testimony against “ any sich ac- 
tions.” 

When Mr. Stagg came home at supper time he 
found Aunty Rose at the helm and already a differ- 
ent air about the place. 

“ Goodness me, Aunty Rose,” he said, biting into 
her biscuit ravenously, “ I was a-going down to the 


A TRAGIC SITUATION 


69 

mill-hands’ hotel to board. I couldn’t stand it no 
longer. If you’d stay here and do for me, I’d feel 
like a new man.” 

“ You ought to be made over into a new man, 
Joseph Stagg,” the woman said sternly. “ A mar- 
ried man.” 

u No, no! Never that!” gasped the hardware 
dealer. 

u If I came here, Joseph Stagg, it would cost you 
more money than you’ve been paying these no- 
account women.” 

“ I don’t care,” said Mr. Stagg recklessly. “ Go 
ahead. Do what you please. Say what you want. 
I’m game.” 

Thereby he had put himself into Aunty Rose’s 
power. She had renovated the old kitchen and some 
of the other rooms. If Mr. Stagg at first trembled 
for his bank balance, he was made so comfortable 
that he had not the heart to murmur. And, besides, 
he believed in keeping his word. He had declared 
himself “ game.” 

But that had all happened years before. This 
matter of expense for Hannah’s Car’lyn was an en- 
tirely different matter. Moreover, the mischievous- 
ness of Prince, the mongrel, was really more than 
Mr. Joseph Stagg thought he was called upon to 
bear. 

Of course, Carolyn May let Prince run at large 
when she was sure Uncle Joe was well out of sight 
of the house, but she was very careful to chain him 


70 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

up again long before her uncle was expected to 
return. 

Prince had learned not to chase anything that wore 
feathers; Aunty Rose herself had to admit that he 
was a very intelligent dog and knew what punishment 
was for. But how did he know that in trying to 
dig out a mole he would be doing more harm than 
good? 

The mole in question lived under a piece of rock 
wall near the garden fence. When let free for his 
first morning run, Prince had been much interested 
in the raised roofs of the tunnels he found in the 
sod down there. 

Aunty Rose called the mole “ a pesky creature.” 
Uncle Joe had threatened to bring home a trap with 
which to impale it. How should Prince know — and 
this was the question Carolyn May asked after- 
wards — that he would not be considered a general 
benefactor if he managed to capture the little blind 
nuisance ? 

At any rate, when Uncle Joe came home to dinner 
on one particular Saturday he walked down to the 
corner of the garden fence, and there saw the havoc 
Prince had wrought. In following the line of the 
mole’s last tunnel he had worked his way under the 
picket fence and had torn up two currant bushes 
and done some damage in the strawberry patch. 

“ And the worst of it is,” grumbled the hardware 
dealer, “ he never caught the mole. That mongrel 
really isn’t worth a bag of dornicks to sink him in 


A TRAGIC SITUATION 


7i 


the brook. But that’s what he’s going to get this 
very evening when I come home. I won’t stand for 
him a day longer.” 

Carolyn May positively turned pale as she 
crouched beside the now chained-up Prince, both 
arms about his rough neck. He licked her cheek. 
Fortunately, he could not understand everything 
that was said to him, therefore the pronouncement 
of this terrible sentence did not agitate him an atom. 

But his little mistress, held to him tightly, dry sobs 
shaking her slight form. Uncle Joe went in to din- 
ner with little appreciation of the horror and despair 
that filled the soul of Hannah’s Car’lyn, out under 
the tree in the back yard. 


CHAPTER VIII 


MR. STAGG IS JUDGED 

F IRST, of course, Carolyn May thought she 
would run away — she and Prince. She could 
not eat any dinner, although Aunty Rose 
called her twice and she did feel a little faint, for 
she possessed a hearty appetite. But the child knew 
that the very first mouthful she tried to swallow 
would choke her — and then she would cry. 

Perhaps Aunty Rose understood this, for she did 
not trouble the little girl again. Carolyn May sat 
for a long time under the tree beside the sleeping 
dog and thought how different this life at The Cor- 
ners was from that she had lived with her father and 
mother in the city home. 

If only that big ship, the Dunraven, had not sailed 
away with her papa and her mamma ! 

Carolyn May had been very brave on that occa- 
sion. She had gone ashore with Mrs. Price and 
Edna after her mother’s last clinging embrace and her 
father’s husky “ Good-bye, daughter,” with scarcely 
a tear. She had watched the huge vessel sweep off 
from the dock and out into the stream, carried by 
the outgoing tide and helped by a fussy tug, which 
latter she had thought preposterously small to be of 
72 


MR. STAGG IS JUDGED 73 

any real service to such a huge craft as the 
Dunraven. 

They had run to the very end of the pier, too; so 
as to see the last of the outgoing ship. Of course, 
the faces of her father and mother were lost to her 
vision in the crowd of other passengers, but her 
mother had waved her pink veil, as agreed, and 
Carolyn May could see that for a long while. 

Of course, she had been brave ! Mamma would 
return in a few weeks, and then, after a time, papa 
would likewise come back — and, oh! so rosy and 
stout! No more cough, no longer a feeble step, no 
longer breathless after he had climbed the two flights 
to their apartment. 

These things the little girl, left behind, had fully 
understood. She looked forward confidently to the 
happy return of both her parents. 

And then, in two weeks, came the fatal news of 
the sinking of the Dunraven and the loss of all but 
a small part of her crew and passengers. The 
steamer had gone down quickly, and in the night, 
with the dim coast of Africa far, far to the south- 
ward and many, many leagues of troubled sea be- 
tween her grave and the Spanish coast. 

The two warring vessels — which one had caused 
the sinking of the Dunraven would probably never 
be known — had not even discovered till daylight 
that there was a remnant of the Dunraven* s com- 
pany adrift on the sea. These were finally rescued 
by the victorious combatant, and in a heavy fog. 


74 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

The exact spot where the Dunraven had sunk was 
not known. 

Vaguely these facts had become known to Carolyn 
May. She never spoke of them. They did not seem 
real to the little girl. After all, she could not believe 
that her father and mother had gone on so long a 
journey that they would never again return to 
her. 

But now, sitting beside the condemned Prince — 
her companion and only real comforter during these 
weeks of her orphanhood — the little girl felt bitterly 
her loneliness and grief. 

If Uncle Joe did as he had threatened, what should 
she do? There seemed to be no place for her and 
Prince to run away to. She did not know her way 
about Sunrise Cove and The Corners. During the 
weeks she had lived here she had learned to know 
nobody well enough to fly to for protection, or of 
whom to beg shelter for herself and her dog. 

She knew Mr. Stagg to be a very firm and deter- 
mined man. Even Aunty Rose, who in most things 
guided affairs at the Stagg homestead, could go only 
so far. What Uncle Joe really determined to do, 
not even the austere housekeeper could balk. No, 
there seemed no escaping the awful tragedy that 
was to be. And if Prince had to die 

“ I’m quite sure I don’t want to live,” thought 
Carolyn May dismally. “ If papa, and mamma, and 
Prince are all dead — why! there aren’t enough other 
folks left in the world to make it worth while living 





She had watched the huge vessel sweep off from the dock 































. * 

























































































1 






























MR. STAGG IS JUDGED 75 

in, I don’t believe. If Prince isn’t going to be alive, 
then I don’t want to be alive, either.” 

By-and-by Prince began to get very uneasy. It 
was long past his dinner hour, and every time he 
heard the screen door slam he jumped up and gazed 
eagerly and with cocked ears and wagging tail in 
that direction. 

“ You poor thing, you,” said Carolyn May at last. 
“ I s’pose you are hungry. It isn’t going to do you 
a bit of good to eat; but you don’t know it. I’ll ask 
Aunty Rose if she has something for you.” 

She got up wearily and went across the yard. 
Aunty Rose stood just inside the screen door. 

“ Don’t you want any dinner, Car’lyn May? ” she 
asked. 

“ No, ma’am. I guess I’d better not eat,” said 
the child. 

“Why not?” 

“ ’Cause my stomach’s so trembly. I just know I 
couldn’t keep anything down, even if I could swallow 
it. But Prince’ll eat his, please. He — he don’t 
know any better.” 

“Tut, tut! ” murmured the woman. “He’s the 
most sensible of the two of you, I declare.” 

But she did not urge Carolyn May to eat. There 
was a platter of broken meat and bread for the dog, 
and Prince ate with apparent thankfulness. 

“ But you wouldn’t gobble that down so, if you 
knew what was going to happen to us, you poor 
dear,” Carolyn May whispered. 


76 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

Later she took Prince around the premises on his 
leash. She led him along the edge of the brook. 
The Stagg place bordered on both sides of the 
stream, and on the farther side were hayfields. Uncle 
Joe did not till any land save the garden in which 
the unhappy Prince had done such damage. 

The little girl found, she believed, what must be 
the deepest hole in the brook. It was not far beyond 
the great, widely spreading tree on the knoll where 
she loved to sit. The water was brown and cloudy 
in this pool, and a trout jumped there and left a wake 
of bubbles behind him where he dived again with 
the luckless fly he had snapped out of the air. 

“ I wonder if that trout will stay there if you are 
drownd-ed right where he lives?” Carolyn May 
asked of Prince. 

Prince wagged his abbreviated tail and yawned. 
Really, he seemed very little impressed by the tragic 
fate that overhung him. Perhaps Carolyn May’s 
feelings would have been less desperate had she been 
blessed, as Prince was just then, by a full stomach. 

Nevertheless, the tragedy was all very real to the 
child. She saw Aunty Rose sitting in one of her stiff- 
est and most straight-backed chairs on the porch, 
knitting. Carolyn May would not go near her, for 
she knew she would burst out crying at the first kind 
word. 

She had learned to love Aunty Rose. The old 
lady always waited for Carolyn May to say her 
prayers now, when bedtime came. And the child 


77 


MR. STAGG IS JUDGED 

had a well-grounded suspicion that before Mrs. 
Kennedy sought her own bed she crept into Carolyn 
May’s room and kissed her softly and saw that she 
was tucked in. 

She felt that she would be sorry to leave Aunty 
Rose. And there was the woman whose husband 
kept the store on the other corner from the Stagg 
house. She had given Carolyn May a stick of candy 
one day. 

“ I expect she’ll be sorry not to see me again,” the 
little girl told herself. “ And there’s Mrs. Gormley 
— and Chet. They’ll think it funny I didn’t bid them 
good-bye. And, then, there’s Mr. Parlow.” 

After all, there seemed to be quite a number of 
people Carolyn May knew — “ just to be acquainted 
with.” But she had never yet seen the fulfilment 
of her strong desire to become acquainted with the 
carpenter’s daughter, Miss Amanda Parlow. 

All these thoughts shuttled back and forth in 
Carolyn May’s brain. The minutes of that after- 
noon dragged by in most doleful procession. There 
was no idea in the little girl’s mind that Uncle Joe 
might change his intention and Prince be saved 
from the watery grave promised him. When she 
saw the hardware dealer come into the yard almost 
an hour earlier than their usual supper time she was 
not surprised. Nor did she think of pleading with 
him for the dog’s life. 

The little girl watched him askance. Mr. Stagg 
came directly through the yard, stopping only at the 


78 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

shed for a moment. There he secured a strong 
potato sack, and with it trailing from his hand went 
half-way up the knoll to where there was a heap of 
stones. He stooped down and began to select some 
of these, putting them in the bag. 

This was too much for Carolyn May. With a 
fearful look at Uncle Joe’s uncompromising shoul- 
ders, she went to the tree where Prince was chained. 
Exchanging the chain for the leather leash with 
which she always led him about, the little girl guided 
the mongrel across the yard and around the corner 
of the house. 

Her last backward glance assured her that the 
hardware dealer had not observed her. Quickly 
and silently she led Prince to the front gate, and they 
went out together into the dusty road. 

“ I — I know we oughtn’t to,” whispered Carolyn 
May to her canine friend, “ but I feel I’ve just got 
to save you, Prince. I — I can’t see you drownd-ed 
dead like that ! ” 

Prince whined in sympathy. Perhaps he felt, too, 
that life held much that was good and beautiful to 
his doggish soul. 

Carolyn May had no idea where they should go 
to hide from Uncle Joe. This venture was the result 
of a sudden and unpremeditated determination. Her 
only thought at first was to get out of sight of the 
Stagg premises. 

So she turned the nearest corner and went up the 
road towards the little closed, gable-roofed cottage 


MR. STAGG IS JUDGED 79 

where Aunty Rose had lived before she had come to 
be Uncle Joe’s housekeeper. 

Carolyn May had already peered over into the 
small yard of the cottage and had seen that Mrs. 
Kennedy still kept the flower-beds weeded and the 
walks neat and the grass plot trimmed. But the 
window shutters were barred and the front door 
built up with boards. 

Carolyn May went in through the front gate and 
sat down on the doorstep, while Prince dropped to 
a comfortable attitude beside her. The dog slept. 
The little girl ruminated. 

She would not go back to Uncle Joe’s — no, in- 
deed! She did not know just what she would do 
when dark should come, but Prince should not be 
sacrificed to her uncle’s wrath. 

In the morning she would walk to the railroad 
station. She knew how to get there, and she knew 
what time the train left for the south. The conduc- 
tor had been very kind to her all the way up from 
New York, and she was sure he would be glad to 
take her back again. 

She and Prince ! They were both happier in that 
small Harlem apartment, even with papa and 
mamma away, than they ever could be at Sunrise 
Cove. And, of course, Prince could not be happy 
after he was “ drownd-ed dead!” 

So it all seemed to the heart-hungry child sitting 
on the doorstep of the abandoned house. A voice, 
low, sweet, yet startling, aroused her. 


8o CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


“ What are you doing there, little girl? ” 

Both runaways started, but neither of them was 
disturbed by the appearance of her who had accosted 
Carolyn May. 

“ Oh, Miss Mandy! ” breathed the little girl, and 
thought that the carpenter’s daughter had never 
looked so pretty. 

“What are you doing there?” repeated Miss 
Parlow. 

“ We — we’ve run away,” said Carolyn May at 
last. She could be nothing but frank; it was her 
nature. 

“ Run away ! ” repeated the pretty woman. “ You 
don’t mean that? ” 

“ Yes, ma’am. I have. And Prince. From Uncle 
Joe and Aunty Rose,” Carolyn May assured her, 
nodding her head with each declaration. 

“Oh, my dear! What for?” asked Miss 
Amanda. 

So Carolyn May told her — and with tears. 

Meanwhile the woman came into the yard and sat 
beside the child on the step. With her arm about 
the little girl, Miss Amanda snuggled her up close, 
wiping the tears away with her own handkerchief. 

“ I just can’t have poor Prince drownd-ed,” Caro- 
lyn May sobbed. “ I’d want to be drownd-ed my- 
self, too.” 

“ I know, dear. But do you really believe your 
Uncle Joseph would do such a thing? Would he 
drown your dog? ” 


MR. STAGG IS JUDGED 81 

“ I — I saw him putting the stones in the bag,” 
sobbed Carolyn May. “ And he said he would.” 

“ But he said it when he was angry, dear. We 
often say things when we are angry — more’s the 
pity ! — which we do not mean, and for which we are 
bitterly sorry afterwards. I am sure, Carolyn May, 
that your Uncle Joe has no intention of drowning 
your dog.” 

“ Oh, Miss Amanda! Are you pos’tive? ” 

“ Positive ! I know Joseph Stagg. He was never 
yet cruel to any dumb creature. Go ask him your- 
self, Carolyn May. Whatever else he may be, he 
is not a hater of helpless and dumb animals.” 

“ Miss Amanda,” cried Carolyn May, with clasped 
hands, “ you — you are just lifting an awful big lump 
off my heart! I’ll run and ask him right away.” 

She put up her lips for Miss Amanda to kiss, but 
she could not wait to walk properly with her new 
friend to the corner. Instead, she raced with the 
barking Prince back to the Stagg premises. Mr. 
Stagg had just finished filling in with the stones the 
trench Prince had dug under the garden fence. 

“ There,” he grunted. “ That dratted dog won’t 
dig this hole any bigger, I reckon. What’s the mat- 
ter with you, Car’lyn?” 

“ Are — are you going to drownd Princey, Uncle 
Joe? If — if you do, it just seems to me, I — I shall 
die! " 

He looked up at her searchingly. 

“ Humph ! is that mongrel so all-important to 


82 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


your happiness that you want to die if he does?” 
demanded the man. 

“ Yes, Uncle Joe.” 

“Humph!” ejaculated the hardware dealer 
again. “ I believe you think more of that dog than 
you do of me.” 

“ Yes, Uncle Joe.” 

The frank answer hit Mr. Stagg harder than he 
would have cared to acknowledge. 

“Why?” he queried. 

“ Because Prince never said a word to hurt me in 
his life ! ” said Carolyn May, sobbing. 

The man was silenced. He felt in his inmost 
heart that he had been judged. 


CHAPTER IX 


PRINCE AWAKENS THE CORNERS 

C AMP-MEETING time was over, and the 
church at The Corners was to open for its 
regular Sunday services. 

“ Both Satan and the parson have had a vaca- 
tion,’’ said Mr. Stagg, u and now they can tackle 
each other again and see which’ll get the strangle 
hold ’twixt now and revival time.” 

“ You should not say such things, especially be- 
fore the child, Joseph Stagg,” admonished Aunty 
Rose. 

Carolyn May, however, seemed not to have heard 
Uncle Joe’s pessimistic remark; she was too greatly 
excited by the prospect of Sunday-school. And the 
very next week-day school would begin! 

By this first week in September the little girl was 
quite settled in her new home at The Corners. 
Prince was still a doubtful addition to the family, 
both Uncle Joe and Aunty Rose plainly having mis- 
givings about him. But in regard to the little girl 
herself, the hardware merchant and the housekeeper 
were of one opinion, even though they did not admit 
it to each other. 


83 


84 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

Aunty Rose remained, apparently, as austere as 
ever, while Joseph Stagg was quite as much immersed 
in business as formerly. Yet there were times, 
when she and the child were alone, that Mrs. Ken- 
nedy unbent, in a greater or less degree. And on 
the part of Joseph Stagg, he found himself thinking 
of sunny-haired, blue-eyed “ Hannah’s Car’lyn ” 
with increasing frequency. 

“ Didn’t you ever have any little girls, Aunty 
Rose?” Carolyn May asked the housekeeper on 
one of these intimate occasions. “Or little boys? 
I mean of your very own.” 

“ Yes,” said Aunty Rose in a matter-of-fact tone. 
“ Three. But only to have them in my arms for a 
very little while. Each died soon after coming to 
me. There was something quite wrong with them 
all, so the doctors said.” 

“Oh, my dear! All three of them?” sighed 
Carolyn May. 

“ Two girls and a boy. Only one lived to be 
three months old. They are all buried behind the 
church yonder. My husband, Frank Kennedy, was 
not one of us. I married out of Meeting.” 

The little girl knew that she meant her husband, 
long since dead, had not been a member of the con- 
gregation of Friends. She leaned against Mrs. 
Kennedy’s chair and tucked what was meant to be 
a comforting hand into that of Aunty Rose. 

“ Now I know something about you,” Carolyn 
May said softly. 


PRINCE AWAKENS THE CORNERS 85 

“What is that?” asked the woman, her eyes 
smiling at the child if her lips did not. 

“ I know why it is you don’t know just how to 
cuddle little girls and show ’em how much you love 
’em. All little children, I mean — not only me.” 

Aunty Rose looked down at her with unchanging 
countenance, but Carolyn May looked fearlessly up 
into the woman’s face. No amount of grimness 
there could trouble the child now. For she knew 
something else about Aunty Rose. The housekeeper 
loved hert 

“ Yes, you didn’t have your little babies long 
enough to learn how to cuddle and snug ’em up. 
That’s it. You ought to learn, Aunty Rose.” 

“ What for? ” asked Aunty Rose Kennedy rather 
sharply. 

“Why! so you could take me up into your lap 
and hug and kiss me — just as my mamma used 
to do.” 

“ You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, I guess, 
Car’lyn May,” said Aunty Rose. “ Seems to me 
too much hugging spoils children.” 

“ Oh, no, indeed ! ” cried the little girl confidently. 
“ Never! My papa used to snug me up lots. Do 
you know what he used to call me? ” 

“ No.” 

“ It was just for fun, you know. Just a pet name. 
Snuggy. He ’most always called me that. ’Cause 
I liked to be snuggled up.” 

Aunty Rose made no rejoinder. 


86 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


The next morning early Carolyn May, with 
Prince, went over into the churchyard and found 
the three little stones in a row. She knew they must 
be the right ones, for there was a bigger stone, with 
the inscription, “ Frank Kennedy, beloved spouse of 
Rose Kennedy,” upon it. “ Spouse ” puzzled the 
little girl at first, but she felt timid about asking 
Aunty Rose about it. 

The names on the three little stones were Emeline, 
Frank, Jr., and Clarissa. Weeds and tall grass had 
begun to sprout about the tombstones in the old 
churchyard. 

Carolyn May pulled the unsightly weeds from 
about the little, lozenge-shaped stones and about the 
taller one, and she dug out a mullen plant that grew 
on one of the graves. 

While she was thus engaged, a tall man in black — 
looking rather “ weedy ” himself, if the truth were 
told — came across the graveyard and stood beside 
her. He wore a broad band of crepe around his 
hat and on his arm, and was very grave and serious- 
looking. 

“Who are you, little girl?” he asked, his voice 
being quite agreeable and his tone kindly. 

“ I’m Car’lyn May, if you please,” she replied, 
looking up at him frankly. 

“ Car’lyn May Stagg? ” he asked. “ You’re Mr. 
Stagg’s little girl? I’ve heard of you.” 

“ Car’lyn May Cameron,” she corrected seriously. 
“ I’m only staying with Uncle Joe. He is my 


PRINCE AWAKENS THE CORNERS 87 

guardian, and he had to take me, of course, when 
my papa and mamma were lost at sea.” 

“Indeed?” returned the gentleman. “Do you 
know who I am?” 

“ I — I think,” said Carolyn May doubtfully, 
“ that you must be the undertaker.” 

For a moment the gentleman looked startled. 
Then he flushed a little, but his eyes twinkled. 

“ The undertaker? ” he murmured. “ Do I look 
like that?” 

“ Excuse me, sir,” said Carolyn May. “ I don’t 
really know you, you know. Maybe you’re not the 
undertaker.” 

“ No, I am not. Though our undertaker, Mr. 
Snivvins, is a very good man.” 

“ Yes, sir,” said the little girl politely. 

“ I am the pastor here — your pastor, I hope,” he 
said, putting a kind hand upon her head. 

“Oh, I know you now!” said Carolyn May 
brightly. “ You’re the man Uncle Joe says is going 
to get a strangle hold on Satan, now that vacation 
is over.” 

The Reverend Afton Driggs looked rather odd 
again. The shocking frankness of the child came 
pretty near to flooring him. 

“ I — ahem ! Your uncle compliments me,” he 
said drily. “ You don’t know that he is ready to do 
his share, do you? ” 

“ His share? ” repeated the puzzled little girl. 

“ Towards strangling the Evil One,” pursued the 


88 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


minister, a wry smile curling the corners of his 
lips. 

“ Has he got a share in it, too? ” asked Carolyn 
May. 

“ I think we all should have,” said the minister, 
looking down at her with returning kindliness in his 
glance. “ Even little girls like you.” 

Carolyn May looked at him quite seriously. 

“ Do you s’pose,” she asked him confidentially, 
“ that Satan is really wicked enough to trouble little 
girls?” 

It was a startling bit of new philosophy thus sug- 
gested, and Mr. Driggs shook his head in grave 
doubt. But it gave him something to think of all 
that day; and the first sermon preached in The 
Corners church that autumn seemed rather different 
from most of those solid, indigestible discourses that 
the good man was wont to drone out to his parish- 
ioners. 

“ Dunno but it is worth while to give the parson 
a vacation,” pronounced Uncle Joe at the dinner 
table. “ Seems to me, his sermon this morning 
seemed to have a new snap to it. Mebbe he’ll give 
old Satan a hard rub this winter, after all.” 

“Joseph Stagg! ” said Aunty Rose admonish- 
ingly. 

“ I think he’s a very nice man,” said Carolyn 
May suddenly. “ And I kep’ awake most of the 
time — you see, I heard poor Princey howling for me 
here, where he was tied up.” 


PRINCE AWAKENS THE CORNERS 89 

“Hum!” ejaculated Mr. Stagg. “Which kept 
you awake — the dog or the minister? ” 

“ Oh, I like Mr. Driggs very much,” the little 
girl assured him. “ And he’s in great ’fliction, too, 
I am sure. He — he wears crepe on his hat and 
sleeve.” 

“ Hum, so he does,” grunted Mr. Stagg. “ He’s 
’most always in mourning for somebody or some- 
thing. I tell him his name ought to be Jeremiah 
instead of ‘ Sweet Afton,’ ” which comment was, of 
course, lost on Carolyn May. But she said seri- 
ously : 

“ Do you s’pose, Uncle Joe, that he looks up 
enough? It does just seem to me as though poor 
Mr. Driggs must always be looking down instead of 
looking up to see the sunshine and the blue sky 
and — and the mountains, like my papa said you 
should.” 

Uncle Joe was silent. Aunty Rose said, very 
briskly for her: 

“ And your papa was right, Car’lyn May. He 
was a very sensible man, I have no doubt.” 

“ Oh, he was quite a wonderful man,” said the 
little girl with full assurance. 

It was on the following morning that school 
opened. The Corners district school was a red 
building, with a squatty bell tower and two front 
doors, standing not far up the road beyond the 
church. Carolyn May thought it a very odd-looking 
schoolhouse indeed. 


9 o 


CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


The school she had attended in New York was a 
big brick-and-stone building, with wide corridors, 
well-ventilated rooms, a lovely basement gymnasium, 
a great hall, a roof garden in summer, part of which 
was enclosed with glass and steam-heated in winter. 

Inside the little red schoolhouse were only rows 
of desks and “ forms ” — all marred, knife -marked, 
and ink-stained. The initials of the very “ oldest 
inhabitant ” of The Corners, Mr. Jackson Sprague, 
were carved in the lid of one desk. And the system 
of education followed in this school seemed to be 
now much what it had been in Mr. Sprague’s day. 

Miss Minnie Lester taught the school, and al- 
though Miss Minnie looked very sharply through 
her glasses at one, Carolyn May thought she was 
going to love the teacher very much. 

Indeed, that was Carolyn May’s attitude towards 
almost everybody whom she met. She expected to 
love and to be loved. Was it any wonder she made 
so many friends? 

But this country school was conducted so differ- 
ently from the city school that Carolyn May found 
herself quite puzzled on many points. 

She had to divide her desk with another little 
girl, Freda Payne. Freda was a black-eyed, snappy 
little girl who could whisper out of the corner of 
her mouth without the teacher’s seeing her do it. 
She instructed Carolyn May from time to time re- 
garding this new world the city child had entered 
into. 


PRINCE AWAKENS THE CORNERS 91 

“ Goodness me ! didn’t you ever have a slate be- 
fore? ” she whispered to Carolyn May. 

“ No,” the little city girl confessed. “ They don’t 
let us use them where I went to school. They make 
too much noise. And, then, they aren’t clean.” 

“ Clean ! Course they’re clean, if you keep ’em 
clean,” declared Freda fiercely. 

She showed the stranger the bottle of water she 
kept in her desk and the sponge with which she 
washed her slate. 

“ But the sponge is dirty. And it smells ! ” ven- 
tured Carolyn May, with a slight shudder. She had 
heard of germs, and the mussy-looking bit of sponge 
was not an attractive object. 

“ ’Tain’t neither!” snapped Freda, making her 
denial positive with two negatives. “ The boys spit 
on their slates and wipe ’em off on their jacket 
sleeves. That’s nasty. But us girls is clean.” 

Carolyn May could not see it, however, and she 
ignored her own slate. 

“ You can’t use that pencil to write with on paper,” 
Freda caught her up with another admonition. 
“ That’s a slate pencil, if it has got wood around it.” 

“Oh, dear me! Is it?” sighed the new pupil. 
“ And I haven’t any other here, that I can see.” 

“ Well, I’ll lend you one. But don’t chew the 
lead. I hate to have folks chew my lead pencils.” 

Carolyn May promised not to lunch off of the bor- 
rowed writing instrument. 

But these were not all the pitfalls into which the 


92 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

new pupil fell. The morning session was not half 
over before she wished for a drink of water. Of 
course, she asked her seatmate about it. 

“ You must raise your hand till Miss Minnie sees 
you. You’ll have to waggle your hand good to make 
her look, like enough,” added Carolyn May’s men- 
tor. “ Then, if she nods, you go back to the entry 
and get your drink.” 

“ Oh,” was the comment of the city child, and she 
immediately raised her hand. She did not have to 
“ waggle ” it much before Miss Minnie took notice 
of her. 

“ Well, Carolyn May? ” she said. 

“May — may I get a drink — please?” almost 
whispered Carolyn May, for she felt very much 
embarrassed. 

Miss Minnie nodded. The little girl rose and 
went back to the entry on the girls’ side of the house. 
She looked all about this rather large square room 
without finding what she sought. 

Against two walls were rows of pegs, on which 
were hung the coats and hats and dinner baskets, or 
dinner pails, of the pupils. In the corner was a shelf 
with a dingy bucket upon it and a rusty tin dipper 
hanging beside it. 

Finally, Carolyn May came slowly back to her 
seat. Miss Minnie was busy with a class of older 
pupils. Freda asked — of course out of the corner 
of her mobile mouth : 

“ Did you get your drink? ” 


PRINCE AWAKENS THE CORNERS 93 

Carolyn May shook her head. 

“ Why not?” 

“ I didn’t see any faucet.” 

“Faucet! What’s that for?” demanded the 
other little girl. 

“ Why, to get the water out of. Isn’t there a cold- 
water tank? And don’t you have paper cups? ” de- 
manded Carolyn May. “ I didn’t see a thing like 
what we use in our school in New York.” 

“ Mercy me, Carolyn May! ” fairly hissed Freda. 
“What are you talking about? We don’t have 
water laid on in the schoolhouse like they do at home. 
The pump’s in the yard. And whoever heard of 
paper cups? Why, paper won’t hold water! ” 

“ Yes, they do,” the other little girl said eagerly. 
“ They are all folded, and you take one and open 
it, and it holds water.” 

“ I think you’re fibbing! ” declared her seatmate 
flatly. 

“ Oh! ” gasped the new pupil, deeply hurt by the 
imputation. 

“Yes, I do!” said Freda. “I’ve got a folding 
nickel cup. But who ever heard of paper cups? 
Everybody drinks out of the dipper.” 

“That rusty old saucepan?” murmured Carolyn 
May in wonder. 

“ Huh, you’re awful finicky! ” scoffed the other. 

“ Is the water in that pail on the shelf? ” 

“ Yes. And don’t you spill none, or Miss Minnie 
will get mad at you.” 


94 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

44 1 guess I’ll wait till I get home at noon recess,” 
said the little city girl. 44 I’m — I’m not so thirsty 
now.” 

There proved, too, at the start, to be a little diffi- 
culty with Miss Minnie. Prince would not remain 
at home. He howled and whined for the first half 
of Monday morning’s session — as Aunty Rose con- 
fessed, almost driving her mad. Then he slipped 
his collar and tore away on Carolyn May’s cold trail. 

He heard the children’s voices as they came out 
of the school at recess, and charged into the group 
in search of his little mistress. Carolyn May was 
just getting acquainted with the other pupils of her 
own age and was enjoying herself very much. 

44 Carolyn May,” pronounced Miss Minnie from 
the girls’ door-stoop, “ you must take that horrid 
dog home at once ! Hurry, or you will be late for 
the next class.” 

Carolyn May was hurt by the teacher’s tone and 
words, and she knew Prince felt bad about it. He 
fairly slunk out of the schoolyard by her side, and 
some of the pupils laughed. 

She pulled his collar up a hole tighter and begged 
Prince to be good and remain at home till noon. 
Yet, ten minutes after the session had again opened 
there sounded a rattling on the porch floor, and into 
the school marched the dog, having drawn the staple 
with which his chain had been fastened to the bole 
of the tree in Mr. Stagg’s back yard. 

Miss Minnie was both alarmed and angry. Some 


PRINCE AWAKENS THE CORNERS 95 

of the little girls shrieked and wept when Prince 
pranced over to Carolyn May’s seat. 

“ If you do not shut that awful dog up so that he 
cannot follow you here, Carolyn May, I shall speak 
to your uncle, Mr. Stagg, about it. Ugh, the ugly 
beast! Take him away at once! ” 

This was entirely too much for the little girl’s 
good temper. Her best friend, she felt, was ma- 
ligned. 

“ Miss Minnie,” she said breathlessly, “ I don’t 
see how you can say Prince is ugly. I think he is 
beautiful! And he is just as kind as he can be ! ” 

She was so hurt and excited because her canine 
friend was so disliked that she did not even cry one 
tear! The teacher, remaining well out of reach of 
the dog, repeated her command. 

“ Take that dog straight home, and don’t let him 
get in this schoolhouse again! I will not allow the 
other children to be so frightened.” 

So Carolyn May’s schooldays at The Corners 
did not begin very happily, after all. She had always 
loved and been loved by every teacher she had ever 
had before. But Miss Minnie seemed prejudiced 
against her because of Prince. 

The little girl felt bad about this, but she was of 
too cheerful a temperament to droop for long under 
the pressure of any trouble. The other children 
liked her, and Carolyn May found plenty of play- 
mates. She would never loiter with them, however, 
in the schoolyard at noon or after school. Instead, 


9 6 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

she would hurry home and release poor Prince from 
duress. 

It had been found impossible to keep the dog on 
a chain. He had almost choked himself once, and 
again had torn his ears getting his collar off. So 
the strong chicken coop under the big tree in the 
back yard which had first been his prison was again 
his cell while his little mistress was at school. 

“ Of course,” Carolyn May said to Aunty Rose, 
“ we mustn’t let poor Princey know it’s because of 
Miss Minnie that he has to be shut up. He might 
take a dislike to her, just as she has to him; and that 
would be dreadful! If she’d only let him, I know 
he’d lie down right outside the schoolroom door 
while I was inside, and be just as good ! ” 

But Miss Minnie remained obdurate. She did 
not like any dogs, and in her eyes Prince was espe- 
cially objectionable. 

One of the bigger girls made up a rhyme about 
Carolyn May and Prince, which began: 

“ Car’lyn May had a mongrel dog , 

Ids coat was not white like snow; 

And everywhere that Car’lyn went 
That dog was sure to go . 

“ It followed her to school one day , 

Which made Miss Minnie sore; 

But when Car’lyn tied the mongrel up, 

It was bound to bark and roar.” 


PRINCE AWAKENS THE CORNERS 97 

There were many more verses; the big girl was 
always adding new ones. 

“ I don’t mind it — much,” Carolyn May confessed 
to Aunty Rose, “ but I wouldn’t like Prince to hear 
that poetry. His feelings might be hurt.” 

It was on the last Friday in the month that some- 
thing happened which quite changed Miss Minnie’s 
attitude towards “ that mongrel.” Incidentally, The 
Corners, as a community, was fully awakened from 
its lethargy, and, as it chanced, like the Sleeping 
Beauty and all her retinue, by a Prince. 

The school session on Friday afternoons was al- 
ways shortened. This day Mr. Brady, one of the 
school trustees, came to review the school and, be- 
fore he left, to pay Miss Minnie her salary for the 
month. 

Carolyn May had permission from Aunty Rose 
to go calling that afternoon. Freda Payne, whom 
she liked very much, lived up the road beyond the 
schoolhouse, and she had invited the little city girl 
to come to see her. Of course, Prince had to be 
included in the invitation. Freda fully under- 
stood that, and Carolyn May took him on his 
leash. 

They saw Miss Minnie at her desk when they went 
past the schoolhouse. She was correcting written 
exercises. Carolyn May secretly hoped that her 
own was much better than she feared it was. 

Not far beyond the schoolhouse Prince began to 
growl, and the hairs stiffened on his neck. 


98 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

“ Whatever is the matter with you, Prince? ” de- 
manded Carolyn May. 

In a moment she saw the cause of the dog’s con- 
tinued agitation. A roughly dressed, bewhiskered 
man sat beside the road eating a lunch out of a news- 
paper. He leered at Carolyn May and said: 

“ I guess you got a bad dog there, ain’t ye, little 
girl?” 

“ Oh, no ! He’s us’ally very polite,” answered 
Carolyn May. “You must be still, Prince! You 
see,” she explained, “ he doesn’t like folks to wear 
old clothes. If — if you had on your Sunday suit, I’m 
quite sure he would not growl at you.” 

“ He wouldn’t, hey? ” said the man hoarsely, 
licking his fingers of the last crumbs of his lunch. 
“ An’ suppose a feller ain’t got no Sunday suit? ” 

“ Why, then, I s’pose Prince wouldn’t ever let you 
come into our yard — if he was loose.” 

“ Don’t you let him loose now, little girl,” said 
the fellow, getting up hurriedly, and eyeing the angry 
dog askance. 

“ Oh, no, sir. We’re going visiting up the road. 
Come away, Prince. I won’t let him touch you,” she 
assured the man. 

The latter seemed rather doubtful of her ability 
to hold the dog long, and he hobbled away towards 
the schoolhouse. Prince really objected to leaving 
the vicinity, and Carolyn May scolded him all the 
way up the road to Freda’s house. 

Carolyn May had a very pleasant call — Freda’s 


PRINCE AWAKENS THE CORNERS 99 

mother even approved of Prince — and it was an hour 
before the two started for home. In sight of the 
schoolhouse Prince gave evidence again of excite- 
ment. 

“ I wonder what is the matter with you now,” 
Carolyn May began, when suddenly she sighted what 
had evidently so disturbed the dog. 

A man was crouching under one of the school- 
house windows, bobbing up now and then to peer in. 
It was the man whom they had previously seen beside 
the road. 

“ Hush, Prince ! ” whispered little Carolyn May, 
holding the dog by the collar. 

She, too, could see through the open window. 
Miss Minnie was still at her desk. She had finished 
correcting the pupils’ papers. Now she had her bag 
open and was counting the money Mr. Brady had 
given her. 

“O-o-oh!” breathed Carolyn May, clinging to 
the eager dog’s collar. 

The man at the window suddenly left his position 
and slipped around to the door. In a moment he 
appeared in the schoolroom before the startled 
teacher. 

Miss Minnie screamed. The man, with a rough 
threat, darted forward to seize her purse. 

Just then Carolyn May unsnapped the leash from 
Prince’s collar and let him go. 

“ Save Miss Minnie, Princey! ” she cried after the 
charging dog. 


ioo CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


Prince did not trouble about the door. The open 
window, through which the tramp had spied upon the 
schoolmistress, was nearer. He went up the wall 
and scrambled over the sill with a savage determina- 
tion that left no doubt whatever in the tramp’s mind. 

With a yell of terror, the fellow bounded out of 
the door and tore along the road and through The 
Corners at a speed never before equalled in that 
locality by a Knight of the Road. 

Prince lost a little time in recovering his footing 
and again getting on the trail of the fleeing tramp. 
But he was soon baying the fellow past the black- 
smith shop and the store. 

The incident called the entire population of The 
Corners, save the bedridden, to the windows and 
doors. For once the little, somnolent village awoke, 
and, as before pointed out, a Prince awoke it. 

Hiram Lardner, the blacksmith, declared after- 
wards that “ you could have played checkers on that 
tramp’s coat tails, providin’ you could have kep’ up 
with him.” 

When Prince came back from the chase, however, 
the tramp’s coat tails would never serve as a checker- 
board, for the dog bore one of them in his foam- 
flecked jaws as a souvenir. 


CHAPTER X 


A SUNDAY WALK 

R EALLY, if Prince had been a vain dog, his ego 
would certainly have become unduly devel- 
’ oped because of this incident. The Corners, 
as a community, voted him an acquisition, whereas 
heretofore he had been looked upon as a good deal 
of a nuisance. 

After she recovered from her fright, Miss Minnie 
walked home with Carolyn May and allowed 
Prince’s delighted little mistress to encourage the 
“ hero ” to “ shake hands with teacher.” 

“ Now, you see, he’s acquainted with you, Miss 
Minnie,” said Carolyn May. “ He’s an awful nice 
dog. You didn’t know just how nice he was before. 
But I am glad he didn’t really bite that dirty-looking 
old tramp, Miss Minnie. I expect it would have 
made Prince sick. And I’m going to take that piece 
of his old coat and bury it in the garden.” 

Even Mr. Stagg had a good word at last to say 
for Prince ; for he had been coming home to supper 
at the moment the dog chased the thievish tramp 
through the village. 

“ We have too many of that gentry here because 

IOI 


102 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


of the railroad. I wish he’d chase ’em all out of 
town,” declared the hardware dealer. 

Besides, he profited by the incident. The very 
next day Miss Minnie came into his store and bought 
one of the very nicest dog collars he had in stock — a 
green leather one with brass rivet heads studding 
it and a shiny nameplate. 

The silversmith, Mr. Murchiston, took almost 
a week to engrave on it: 

Prince 

For a Brave Deed 

The next Friday noon Miss Minnie told Carolyn 
May she could bring Prince to school with her — of 
course, on his leash. By this time all the other pupils 
had learned that, even if he did look savage, Prince 
was quite as gentle and friendly as little Carolyn 
May herself, and they had ceased to be afraid of 
him. 

The afternoon session closed at the usual recess 
time, and then it was that Miss Minnie presented the 
new collar to Prince, with, as Mr. Brady, the trustee, 
would have said, “ a few appropriate words.” 

The big girl invented another verse in imitation 
of “ Mary’s Little Lamb,” and recited it: 

“ ' What makes Prince love Car’lyn so?’ 

The little children cry. 

1 Why, Car'lyn loves the dog f you know / 

The teacher doth reply.” 


A SUNDAY WALK 


103 


“ Oh, dear me ! ” sighed Carolyn May happily. 
“ It’s just like a party — a birthday party. We 
never celebrated Prince’s birthday before, or 
gave him any kind of party. But I know he en- 
joys it.” 

He certainly did seem to appreciate the honour, 
and bore himself proudly with the new green collar 
around his neck. Uncle Joe attached his S.P.C.A. 
license tag to it, which jingled like a bangle. 

Carolyn May was glad to see Uncle Joe do this. 
Everything that Uncle Joe did which showed he 
thought of something besides his business pleased 
his little niece. 

“ You see,” she told Aunty Rose, “ I know Uncle 
Joe doesn’t look up enough. Whenever I’m in his 
store I almost always see him at his desk working 
at that great big book in which he keeps his 
accounts. 

“ Chet Gormley says he always is at it — Sundays, 
too. You know, Aunty Rose, he walks down to the 
store every Sunday after dinner and stays till supper 
time.” 

“ I know it, child,” the housekeeper agreed. 
“ Joseph Stagg is completely wrapped up in his 
business.” 

“ Yes. My papa had to work hard, and awful 
long hours, too. But when he was away from the 
newspaper office he said he always left business be- 
hind him. He looked up at the sky and listened to 
the birds sing. Leastways,” said Carolyn May hon- 


io 4 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

estly, “ he listened to the sparrows quarrel. There 
weren’t many other birds on our block, ’cept a par- 
rot; and he scolded awfully.” 

At any rate, she was quite sure that Uncle Joe 
ought to be interested in something besides his hard- 
ware store. She thought about this a good deal. 
And, finally, she laid an innocent little trap for 
him. 

Of one tenet of the Friends’ belief Aunty Rose 
was thoroughly convinced: no cooking went on in 
the Stagg kitchen after breakfast on the Sabbath. 
Of course, they had dinner, but save for hot tea or 
coffee or soup the viands at that meal and at supper 
were cold. 

Sometimes during the warm weather there were 
heaps of Aunty Rose’s flaky-crusted apple turnovers, 
baked the day before, to crumble into bowls of 
creamy milk, or there were piles of lovely sandwiches 
and eggs with mayonnaise, and suchlike delicacies. 

Aunty Rose, however, removed her work apron 
when the breakfast dishes were washed and put 
away and the kitchen “ ridded up,” and for the re- 
mainder of Sunday she did only the very necessary 
things about the house. 

If she did not walk to town to attend the Friends’ 
Meeting House, she sat in a straight-backed chair 
and read books that — to Carolyn May — looked 
“ awfully religious.” However, she did not make 
the day of rest a nightmare to the child. The little 
girl had her picture books, as well as her Sunday- 


A SUNDAY WALK 


105 

school papers, and she could stroll about or play 
quietly with Prince. 

The Corners was not burdened with the arrival 
of Sunday papers from the city, with their blotchy- 
looking supplements, and unsightly so-called “ funny 
sheets.” Almost everybody went to church, and all 
the children to Sunday-school, which was held first. 

The Reverend Afton Driggs, though serious- 
minded, was a loving man. He was fond of chil- 
dren, and he and his childless wife gave much of their 
attention to the Sunday-school. Mrs. Driggs taught 
Carolyn May’s class of little girls. Mrs. Driggs 
did her very best, too, to get the children to stay to 
the preaching service, but Carolyn May had to con- 
fess that the pastor’s discourses were usually hard 
to understand. 

“ And he is always reading about the ‘ Begats,’ ” 
she complained gently to Uncle Joe as they went 
home together on this particular Sunday — the one 
following the presentation of Prince’s new collar — 
“ and I can’t keep interested when he does that. I 
s’pose the ‘ Begats ’ were very nice people, but Pm 
sure they weren’t related to us — they’ve all got such 
funny names.” 

“ Hum ! ” ejaculated Uncle Joe, smothering a de- 
sire to laugh. “ Flow gently, sweet Afton, does 
select his passages of Scripture mostly from the ‘ val- 
leys of dry bones,’ I allow. You’ve got it about 
right there, Carolyn May.” 

“ Uncle Joe,” said the little girl, taking her cour- 


10 6 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


age in both hands, “ will you do something for 
me? ” Then, as he stared down at her from under 
his bushy brows, she added: u I don’t mean that you 
aren’t always doing something for me — letting me 
sleep here at your house, and eat with you, and all 
that. But something special.” 

“ What is the ‘ something special ’? ” asked Mr. 
Stagg cautiously. 

“ Something I want you to do to-day. You always 
go off to your store after dinner, and when you come 
home it’s too dark.” 

“Too dark for what?” 

“ For us to take a walk,” said the little girl very 
earnestly. “ Oh, Uncle Joe, you don’t know how 
dreadful I miss taking Sunday walks with my papa ! 
Of course, we took ’em in the morning, for he had 
to go to work on the paper in the afternoon, but we 
did just about go ^wrywhere. 

“ Sometimes,” pursued Carolyn May in reminis- 
cence, “ we went to a very, very early morning serv- 
ice in a church. It was held pertic’lar for folks that 
worked at night. It wasn’t like our church where I 
went to Sunday-school, for there were boys in long 
dresses, and they swung little dishes on chains, with 
something burning in ’em that smelled nice, and the 
minister did all the talking ” 

“ Humph! ” snorted Mr. Stagg, who was just as 
startled as was the Reverend Mr. Driggs by any new 
idea. 

“ And then we walked,” sighed Carolyn May. 


A SUNDAY WALK 


107 


“ Of course, we had often to take a ride first before 
we could get a place to walk in — not on pavement. 
On real dirt and grass! Under the trees! Where 
the birds sang! And the flowers lived! Oh, Uncle 
Joe! do you know how pretty the woods are now? 
The trees and bushes are all such lovely colours. I 
don’t dare go very far alone — not even with Prince. 
I might get lost, Aunty Rose says. 

“ But if you would go with me,” the little girl 
added wistfully, “ just this afternoon, seems to me 
I wouldn’t feel so — so empty” 

That “ empty ” feeling from which the little girl 
suffered when she thought of her parents and her 
old life she did not often speak of. Mr. Stagg 
looked down at her earnest face and saw that the 
blue eyes were misty. But Carolyn May was brave. 

“Humph! ” said Uncle Joe, clearing his throat. 
“ If it’s going to do you any particular good, Car’lyn 
May, I suppose I can take a walk with you. I ex- 
pect the chestnuts are ripe.” 

“ Oh, they are, Uncle Joe ! And I’ve wanted to 
get just a few. But whenever Princey and I go to 
any of the trees near by, there are always squir- 
rels — and they do quarrel so ! I s’pose that’s all 
they’ll have to eat this winter, and maybe the winter 
is going to be a hard one. That’s what Tim, the 
hackman, says. I don’t want to rob the poor little 
squirrels. But couldn’t we give ’em something in- 
stead to eat, and so take a few of their nuts? ” 
u The squirrels always were piggish,” chuckled 


io8 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


Uncle Joe. “ I don’t believe they are entitled to 
more’n a bushel apiece. Anyway, we’ll take a basket 
with us.” 

This they did. Although Aunty Rose was very 
strict with herself on Sunday, she did not disapprove 
of this walk. And certainly Prince did not. 

Once off his chain and realising that they were 
bound for the woods, he acted like a mad dog for 
the first few minutes. As they crossed the already 
browning fields he dashed back and forth, now far 
ahead, now charging back at them as though deter- 
mined to run them down. Then he rolled on the 
grass, crept on his stomach, tearing up the sod with 
his strong claws, and barking with delight. 

“ That fool pup hasn’t got the sense he was born 
with,” declared Uncle Joe, but without rancour. 

“ He’s just happy,” explained Carolyn May. 
“ You see, he’s happy for himself and happy for us, 
too. So he just has to show off this way. It isn’t 
really that he hasn’t good sense, Uncle Joe.” 

It was a crisp day — one of those autumn days 
when the tang of frost remains in the air, in spite of 
all the efforts of the sun to warm it. The sumac had 
blushed redly all along the hedgerows. The young 
oak leaves were brown and curled. Under foot, the 
dead leaves rustled and whispered. The bare-limbed 
beeches looked naked, indeed, among the other trees. 
Even the yellowing leaves of the chestnuts them- 
selves were rattling down without a breath of wind 
Stirring. 


A SUNDAY WALK 


109 


The jays screamed at the party as they wheeled 
swiftly through the wood. Once Prince jumped a 
rabbit from its form, and Uncle Joe actually urged 
the excited dog in his useless chase of the frightened 
creature. But Carolyn May could not approve of 
that. 

“ You see,” she said gravely, “ although it’s lots 
of fun for Prince, we don’t know just how the rabbit 
feels about it. Maybe he doesn’t want to run so 
hard. There ! Prince has given it up. I’m glad.” 

She did not mind the dog’s chasing and barking 
at the squirrels. They were well out of reach. One 
excited squirrel leaped from a tree top into the thick 
branches of another tree, sailing through the air 
“ just like an aeroplane.” Carolyn May had seen 
aeroplanes and thought she would like to go up in 
one. 

“ Of course,” she explained, “ not without some- 
body who knew all about coming down again. I 
wouldn’t want to get stuck up there.” 

Here and there they stopped to pick up the glossy 
brown chestnuts that had burst from their burrs. 
That is, Carolyn May and her uncle did. Prince, 
after a single attempt to nose one of the prickly 
burrs, left them strictly alone. 

“ You might just as well try to eat Aunty Rose’s 
strawberry needle cushion, Princey,” the little girl 
said wisely. “ You’ll have a sorer nose than Amos 
Bartlett had when he tried to file it down with a 
wood rasp.” 


no CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


“ Hum! ” ejaculated Mr. Stagg, “ whatever pos- 
sessed that Bartlett child to do such a fool trick? ” 

“ Why, you know his nose is awfully big,” said 
Carolyn May. “ And his mother’s always worried 
about it. She must have worried Amos, too, for 
one day last week he went over to Mr. Parlow’s 
shop, borrowed a wood rasp, and tried to file his 
nose down to a proper size. And now he has to go 
with his nose all greased and shiny till the new skin 
grows back on it.” 

“ Bless me, what these kids will do! ” muttered 
Mr. Stagg. 

“ Now, I’ve got big feet,” sighed Carolyn May. 
“ I know I have. But I hope I’ll grow up to them. 
I wouldn’t want to try to pare them off to make them 
smaller. If they have got such a long start ahead 
of the rest of me, I really believe that the rest of me 
will catch up to my feet in time, don’t you? ” 

“ Nothing like being hopeful,” commented Mr. 
Stagg drily. 

It was just at that moment that the little girl 
and the man, becoming really good comrades on this 
walk, met with an adventure. At least, to Carolyn 
May it was a real adventure, and one she was not to 
forget for a long, long time. 

Prince suddenly bounded away, barking, down 
a pleasant glade, through the bottom of which flowed 
a brook. Carolyn May caught a glimpse of some- 
thing brown moving down there, and she called 
shrilly to the dog to come back. 


A SUNDAY WALK 


hi 


“ But that’s some body, Uncle Joe,” Carolyn May 
said with assurance, as the dog slowly returned. 
u Prince never barks like that, unless it’s a person. 
And I saw something move.” 

“ Somebody taking a walk, like us. Couldn’t be 
a deer,” said Mr. Stagg. 

“ Oh,” cried Carolyn May a moment later, “ I 
see it again. That’s a skirt I see. Why, it’s a 
lady!” 

Mr. Stagg suddenly grew very stern-looking, as 
well as silent. All the beauty of the day and of the 
glade they had entered seemed lost on him. He 
went on stubbornly, yet as though loath to proceed. 

“ Why,” murmured Carolyn May, “ it’s Miss 
Amanda Parlow ! That’s just who it is ! ” 

The carpenter’s daughter was sitting on a bare 
brown log by the brook. She was dressed very pret- 
tily, all in brown. Carolyn May had seen her that 
day in church in this same pretty dress. 

For some weeks Miss Amanda had been away 
“ on a case.” Carolyn May knew that she was a 
trained nurse and was often away from home weeks 
at a time. Mr. Parlow had told her about it. 

The little girl wanted to speak to the pretty Miss 
Amanda, but she looked again into Uncle Joe’s 
countenance and did not dare. 


CHAPTER XI 


A CANINE INTERVENTION 

C AROLYN MAY wanted awfully to speak to 
Miss Amanda. The brown lady with the 
pretty roses in her cheeks sat on the log by 
the brook, her face turned from the path Joseph 
Stagg and his little niece were coming along. She 
must have known they were coming down the glade 
and who they were, for nobody could mistake the 
identity of Prince, and the dog would not be out in 
the woods with anybody but his little mistress. 

Miss Parlow, however, kept her face steadily 
turned in the opposite direction. And Uncle Joe 
was quite as stubborn. He stared straight ahead 
down the path without letting the figure on the log 
get into the focus of his vision. 

Carolyn May did not see how it was possible for 
two people who loved each other, or who ever had 
loved each other, to act so. They must have thought 
a great deal of each other once upon a time, for 
Chet Gormley’s mother had said so. The very fact 
that they now acted as they did proved to the ob- 
servant child that the situation was not normal. 

She wanted to seize Uncle Joe’s hand and whisper 
to him how pretty Miss Amanda looked. She wanted 
112 


A CANINE INTERVENTION 113 

to run to the lady and talk to her. Thus far she had 
found little opportunity for knowing Miss Amanda 
Parlow well, although Carolyn May and the old 
carpenter were now very good friends. 

Hanging to Uncle Joe’s hand, but looking long- 
ingly at the silent figure on the log, Carolyn May 
was going down to the stepping-stones by which they 
were to cross the brook, when, suddenly, Prince 
came to a halt right at the upper end of the log and 
his body stiffened. 

“What is it, Prince?” whispered his little mis- 
tress. “ Come here.” 

But the dog did not move. He even growled — 
not at Miss Amanda, of course, but at something 
on the log. And it was just then that Carolyn May 
wanted to scream — and she could not! 

For there on the log, raising its flat, wicked head 
out of an aperture, its lidless eyes glittering, and its 
forked tongue shooting in and out of its jaws, was 
a snake, a horrid, silent, writhing creature, the look 
of which held the little girl horror-stricken and 
speechless. 

Uncle Joe glanced down impatiently, to see what 
made her hold back so. The child’s feet seemed 
glued to the earth. She could not take another 
step. 

Writhing out of the hole in the log and coiling, 
as it did so, into an attitude to strike, the snake 
looked to be dangerous, indeed. The fact that it 
was only a large blacksnake and non-poisonous made 


1 1 4 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

no difference at that moment to the dog or to the 
little girl — nor to Joseph Stagg when he saw it. 

It was coiled right at Miss Amanda’s back. She 
did not see it, for she was quite as intent upon keep- 
ing her face turned from Mr. Stagg as he had been 
determined to ignore her presence. 

After all, it is the appearance of a snake that ter- 
rifies some people. They do not stop to question 
whether it is furnished with a poison sac or not. 
The very look of the creature freezes their blood. 

Carolyn May was shaking and helpless. Not so 
Prince. He repeated his challenging growl and then 
sprang at the vibrating head. Miss Amanda ut- 
tered a stifled scream and jumped up from the log, 
whirling to see what was happening behind her. 

Joseph Stagg dropped Carolyn May’s hand and 
leaped forward with his walking-stick raised to 
strike. But the mongrel dog was there first. He 
wisely caught the blacksnake behind the head, his 
strong, sharp teeth severing its vertebrae. 

“Good dog!” shouted Mr. Stagg excitedly. 
“ Fine dog!” 

“Oh, Miss Amanda!” shrieked Carolyn May. 
“ I — I thought he was going to sting you — I did ! ” 

She ran to the startled woman and clung to her 
hand. Prince nosed the dead snake. Mr. Stagg 
looked exceedingly foolish. Miss Amanda recovered 
her colour and her voice simultaneously. 

“ What a brave dog yours is, little girl,” she said 
to Carolyn May. “And I do so despise snakes! ” 


A CANINE INTERVENTION iij 

Then she looked directly at Mr. Stagg and bowed 
gravely. “ I thank you,” she said, but so coldly, so 
Carolyn May thought, that her voice might have 
come “ just off an iceberg.” 

“ Oh, I didn’t do anything — really I didn’t,” stam- 
mered the man. “ It was the dog.” 

“ Oh ! ” said Miss Amanda. 

“ Yes,” repeated Mr. Stagg, “ it was the dog.” 

Both looked very uncomfortable. Joseph Stagg 
began to pick up the scattered chestnuts from the 
overturned basket. The lady stooped and whispered 
to Carolyn May: 

“ Come to see me, my dear. I want to know you 
better.” 

“ And Prince? ” asked the little girl. 

u And Prince, of course.” 

Then she kissed Carolyn May and slipped quietly 
away from the brook, disappearing very quickly in 
the undergrowth. Uncle Joe stood up, with the 
basket in his hand. 

“ You’d better call the dog away from that snake, 
Car’lyn May,” he said in a strangely husky voice. 
“ We’ll be going.” 

The little girl approved. 

“ You surely don’t want to eat it, Prince,” she 
told her canine friend. “ Snakes aren’t meat, nor 
even fish. Are they, Uncle Joe? ” 

“Humph! what d’you s’pose they are, then?” 
he demanded. 

“Why, they’re — they’re just insects, aren’t they? 


ii 6 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


Not even dogs should eat them,” and she urged 
Prince away from the snake. 

The muscles of the “ insect ” still twitched, and 
its tail snapped about. Prince had his doubts as to 
whether it was really dead or was “ playing possum.” 

“ Is it true, Uncle Joe,” Carolyn May asked, 
“ that snakes can’t really die till the sun goes down? 
You see, it still wiggles. Do — do you s’pose it’s 
suffering? ” 

“ I guess Prince fixed Mr. Snake, all right, at the 
first bite,” returned Mr. Stagg. “ He’s dead. That 
old idea about the critters holding the spark of life 
till after sunset is just a superstition. We can safely 
call that fellow dead and leave him.” 

Joseph Stagg and the little girl went on across the 
stepping-stones, while Prince splashed through the 
water. Carolyn May was thinking about Miss 
Amanda Parlow, and she believed her Uncle Joe 
was, too. 

“ Uncle Joe,” she said, “ would that bad old snake 
have stung Miss Amanda? ” 

“ Huh? No; I reckon not,” admitted Mr. Stagg 
absent-mindedly. “ Blacksnakes don’t bite. A big 
one like that can squeeze some.” 

“ But you were scared of it — like me and Prince. 
And for Miss Amanda,” said Carolyn May, very 
much in earnest. 

“ I guess ’most everybody is scared by the sight 
of a snake, Car’lyn May.” 

“ But you were scared for Miss Amanda’s sake — 


A CANINE INTERVENTION 117 

just the same as I was,” repeated the little girl 
decidedly. 

“ Well? ” he growled, looking away, troubled by 
her insistence. 

“Then you don’t hate her, do you?” the child 
pursued. “ I’m glad of that, Uncle Joe, for I like 
her very much. I think she’s a beautiful lady.” 

To this Uncle Joe said nothing. He was not to 
be drawn, badger-like, to the mouth of his den. 
What he really thought of Miss Amanda he kept to 
himself. 

“ Anyway,” sighed Carolyn May at last, “ she 
invited me to come to see her, now she’s home from 
nursing. And, if you haven’t got any objection, 
Uncle Joe, I’m going to see her.” 

“ Go ahead,” said Mr. Stagg. “ I haven’t any- 
thing to say against it.” 

But Carolyn May was far from satisfied by this 
permission. Child as she was, somehow she had 
gained an appreciation of the tragedy in the lives of 
Joseph Stagg and Amanda Parlow. 

That cry the man had uttered when he sprang to 
Miss Parlow’s aid had been wrenched from the very 
depths of his being. Nor had Miss Amanda’s emo- 
tion been stirred only by the sight of a snake that 
was already dead when she had first seen it. Caro- 
lyn May had felt the woman’s hand tremble; there 
had been tears flooding her eyes when she kissed the 
little girl. 

“ I guess,” thought Carolyn May wisely, “ that 


1 1 8 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


when two folks love each other and get angry, the 
love’s there just the same. Getting mad doesn’t kill 
it; it only makes ’em feel worse. 

“ Poor Uncle Joe ! Poor Miss Amanda ! Maybe 
if they’d just try to look up and look for brighter 
things, they’d get over being mad and be happy 
again.” 

She felt that she would really like to advise with 
somebody on this point. Aunty Rose, of course, was 
out of the question. She knew that people often 
advised with their minister when they were in 
trouble, but to Carolyn May Mr. Driggs did not 
seem to be just the person with whom to discuss a 
love-affair. Kindly as the minister was disposed, he 
lacked the magnetism and sympathy that would urge 
one to take him into one’s confidence in such a deli- 
cate matter. 

The little girl quite realised that it was delicate. 
She longed to help her uncle and Miss Amanda and 
to bring them together, but she felt, too, that what- 
ever she did or said might do more harm than 
good. 

When Uncle Joe and Carolyn May returned from 
this adventurous walk, Mr. Stagg went heavily into 
his own room, closed the door, and even locked it. 
He went over to the old-fashioned walnut bureau 
that stood against the wall between the two windows, 
and stood before it for some moments in an attitude 
of deep reflection. Finally, he drew his bunch of 
keys from his pocket and opened one of the two 


A CANINE INTERVENTION 119 

small drawers in the heavy piece of furniture — the 
only locked drawer there was. 

It contained a miscellaneous collection of odds 
and ends — old school exercises, letters from his sister 
Hannah, an old-fashioned locket containing locks of 
his mother’s and of his father’s hair, broken trinkets, 
childish keepsakes. Indeed, such sentimental re- 
membrances as Joseph Stagg possessed were secreted 
in this drawer. 

From beneath all this litter he drew forth a tin- 
type picture, faded now, but clear enough to show 
him the features of the two individuals printed on 
the sensitised plate. 

He remembered as keenly as though it were yes- 
terday when and how the picture had been made — at 
the county fair so many years ago. His own eyes 
looked out of the photograph proudly. They were 
much younger eyes than they were now. 

And the girl beside him in the picture ! Sweet as 
a wild rose, Mandy Parlow’s lovely, calm counte- 
nance promised all the beauty and dignity her ma- 
tured womanhood had achieved. 

“ Mandy! Mandy! ” he murmured over and over 
again. “ Oh, Mandy! Why? Why?” 

He held the tintype for a long, long time in his 
hand, gazing on it with eyes that saw the vanished 
years rather than the portraits themselves. Finally, 
he hid the picture away again, closed and locked the 
drawer with a sigh, and with slow steps left the 


room. 


CHAPTER XII 


CHET GORMLEY TELLS SOME NEWS 

I T was when she came in sight of the Parlow 
place on Monday afternoon, she and Prince, 
that Carolyn May bethought her of the very 
best person in the world with whom to advise upon 
the momentous question which so troubled her. 

Who could be more interested in the happiness of 
Miss Amanda than Mr. Parlow himself? If his 
daughter had loved Uncle Joe and still loved him, 
it seemed to Carolyn May as though the carpenter 
should be very eager, indeed, to help overcome the 
difficulty that lay between the two parted lovers. 

The little girl had been going to call on Miss 
Amanda. Aunty Rose had said she might, and Miss 
Amanda had invited her “ specially.” 

But the thought of taking the old carpenter into 
her confidence and advising with him delayed that 
visit. Mr. Parlow was busy on some piece of cabinet 
work, but he nodded briskly to the little girl when 
she came to the door of the shop and looked in. 

“Are you very busy, Mr. Parlow?” she asked 
him after a watchful minute or two. 

“ My hands be, Car’lyn May,” said the carpenter 
in his dry voice. 


120 


CHET GORMLEY TELLS SOME NEWS 12 1 


“ Oh! ” 

“ But I kin listen to ye — and I kin talk.” 

“ Oh, that’s nice! You can talk when you are 
sawing and fitting things, can’t you? Not like when 
you are nailing. Then your mouth’s full of nails — 
like Mrs. Gormley’s is full of pins when she’s fitting 
you.” 

“ Miz Gormley never fitted me to nothin’ yet,” 
returned Mr. Parlow grimly, “ less ’twas a suit of 
gossip.” 

Carolyn May did not notice this remark, nor 
would she have understood it. She thought Chet 
Gormley’s mother a very interesting woman, indeed. 
She always knew so much about everybody. 

Just now, moreover, Carolyn May had something 
else in her mind; so she ignored Mr. Parlow’s re- 
mark about the seamstress. She asked in a half- 
whisper : 

“ Mr. Parlow, did you hear about what happened 
yesterday? ” 

“Eh?” he queried, eyeing her quizzically. 
“Does anything ever happen on Sunday?” 

“ Something did on this Sunday,” cried the little 
girl. “ Didn’t you hear about the snake? ” 

“ What d’ye mean — snake ? The old original 
snake — that sarpint ye read about in the Scrip- 
tures? ” demanded the carpenter, ruffling up his grey 
hair till it looked like the topknot of a very cross 
cockatoo. 

“ Oh, no, Mr. Parlow ! ” and then little Carolyn 


i22 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


May explained. She told the story with such earnest- 
ness that he stopped working to listen, watching her 
with as shrewd, sharp eyes as ever a real cockatoo 
possessed. 

“ Humph ! ” was his grunted comment at the end. 
“ Well! ” 

“ Don’t you think that was real exciting? ” asked 
Carolyn May. “ And just see how it almost brought 
my Uncle Joe and your Miss Amanda together. 
Don’t you see ? ” 

Mr. Parlow actually jumped. “ What’s that you 
say, child? ” he rasped out grimly. “ Bring Mandy 
and Joe Stagg together? Well, I guess not! ” 

“ Oh, Mr. Parlow, don’t you think that would be 
just be-a-yoz/-ti-ful? ” cried the little girl with a lin- 
gering emphasis upon the most important word. 
“ Don’t you see how happy they would be ? ” 

“ I’d like to know who told you they’d be happy? ” 
he demanded crossly. 

“ Why ! wouldn’t they be ? If they truly love each 
other and could get over being mad? ” 

“ Humph ! ” growled Mr. Parlow, “ you let their 
4 mad ’ alone. ’Tain’t none of your business.” Mr. 
Parlow was really all ruffled up, just as though he 
were angry at Carolyn May’s suggestion. “ I don’t 
know as anybody’s pertic’lar anxious to see that 
daughter of mine and Joe Stagg friendly again. No 
good would come of it.” 

Carolyn May looked at him sorrowfully. Mr. 
Parlow had quite disappointed her. It was plain to 


CHET GORMEEY TELLS SOME NEWS 123 

be seen that he was not the right one to advise with 
about the matter. The little girl sighed. 

“ I really did s’pose you’d want to see Miss 
Amanda happy, Mr. Parlow,” she whispered. 

“Happy? Bah!” snarled the old man, setting 
vigorously to work again. He acted as if he wished 
to say no more, and let the little girl depart without 
another word. 

Carolyn May really could not understand it — at 
least, she could not immediately. It seemed the 
most natural thing in the world for Mr. Parlow to 
wish to see his daughter happy and content. 

And the little girl knew that Miss Amanda was 
not happy. As she became better and better ac- 
quainted with the woman whom she thought so beau- 
tiful she was more and more convinced that the car- 
penter’s daughter was not of a cheerful spirit. 

Mr. Jedidiah Parlow did not seem to care in the 
least. That must be, Carolyn May told herself, 
because he was under the influence of the Dark Spirit 
himself. He was always looking down. Like Mr. 
Stagg, the old carpenter was immersed in his daily 
tasks and seldom thought of anything else. 

“ Why, he doesn’t even know what it means to be 
happy! ” thought Carolyn May. “ He never looks 
up, or out, or away from his carpenter’s bench. 
Dear me ! of course he isn’t interested in Uncle Joe 
and Miss Amanda’s being in love.” 

That Mr. Parlow might have a selfish reason for 
desiring to keep his daughter and Joseph Stagg apart 


124 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

did not enter the little girl’s mind. She was too 
young to appreciate such a situation as that might 
suggest. 

After that Sunday walk, however, Carolyn May 
was never so much afraid of her uncle as before. 
Why, he had even called Prince “ good dog ” ! 
Truly, Mr. Joseph Stagg was being transformed — if 
slowly. 

He could not deny to himself that, to a certain 
extent, he was enjoying the presence of his little niece 
at The Corners. If he only could decide just what 
to do with the personal property of his sister Hannah 
and her husband down in the New York apartment. 
Never in his life had he been so long deciding a 
question. He could not bring himself to the point 
of writing the lawyer either to sublet the furnished 
apartment or to sell the furniture in it. Nor could 
he decide to go down himself to sort over Hannah’s 
little treasures, put the remainder in an auction room, 
and close up the apartment. 

He had really loved Hannah. He knew it now, 
did Joseph Stagg, every time he looked at the lovely 
little child who had come to live with him at The 
Corners. Why! just so had Hannah looked when 
she was a little thing. The same deep, violet eyes, 
and sunny hair, and laughing lips 

Mr. Stagg sometimes actually found a reflection 
of the cheerful figure of “ Hannah’s Car’lyn ” com- 
ing between him and the big ledger over which he 
spent so many of his waking hours. 


CHET GORMLEY TELLS SOME NEWS 125 

Once he looked up from the ledger — it was on a 
Saturday morning — and really did see the bright 
figure of the little girl standing before him. It was 
no dream or fancy, for old Jimmy, the cat, suddenly 
shot to the topmost shelf, squalling with wild aban- 
don. Prince was nosing along at Carolyn May’s 
side. 

“ Bless me ! ” croaked Mr. Stagg. “ That dog of 
yours, Car’lyn May, will give Jimmy a conniption 
fit yet. What d’you want down here? ” 

Carolyn May told him. A man had come to the 
house to buy a cow, and Aunty Rose had sent the 
little girl down to tell Mr. Stagg to come home and 
“ drive his own bargain.” 

“ Well, well,” said Mr. Stagg, locking the ledger 
in the safe, “ I’ll hustle right out and tend to it. 
Don’t see why the man couldn’t have waited till 
noontime. Hey, you, Chet!” 

Chet Gormley was not down in the cellar on this 
occasion. He appeared, wearing a much soiled 
apron, and with very black hands, having been sort- 
ing bolts. 

“ Here I am, Mr. Stagg,” said the boy cheer- 
fully. “ Mornin’, Car’lyn May. And how’s our 
friend?” and he ventured to pat Prince’s head, 
having become well acquainted with the dog by 
this time. 

“ Never mind that dog, Chet,” said Mr. Stagg. 
“ You pay attention to me. Look out for the store. 
Don’t have any fooling. And ” 


126 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


“ Oh, uncle! may I stay, too? Me and Prince? ” 
cried Carolyn May. “ We’ll be good.” 

“ Pshaw! Yes, if you want to,” responded Mr. 
Stagg, hurrying away. He did not wish to be 
bothered with her just then. He desired to walk 
rapidly. 

Chet went to wash his hands and remove the 
apron. If he was to act as clerk instead of chore 
boy, he certainly must “ dress the part.” Besides, 
he did not want to be so dirty in Carolyn May’s pres- 
ence. It seemed to Chet Gormley as though a boy 
must look his very best to be worthy of companion- 
ship with the radiant little vision that Mr. Stagg 
referred to as “ Hannah’s Car’lyn.” 

“ My! your uncle’s changin’ more and more, ain’t 
he?” remarked Chet, the optimistic. “He does 
sometimes almost laugh, Car’lyn. I never see the 
beat of it ! ” 

“ Oh, is he? ” cried the little child. “ Is he look- 
ing up more? Do you think he is, Chet? ” 

“ I positively do,” Chet assured her. 

“ And he hasn’t always got his nose in that old 
ledger? ” 

“ Well — I wouldn’t say that he neglected business, 
no, ma’am,” said the boy honestly. “You see, we 
men have got to think of business mostly. But he 
sure is thinkin’ of some other things, too — ya-as, 
indeedy! ” 

“What things, Chet?” Carolyn May asked 
anxiously, hoping that Uncle Joe had shown some 


CHET GORMLEY TELLS SOME NEWS 127 

recovered interest in Miss Amanda and that Chet 
had noticed it. 

“ Why — well — Now, you see, there’s that house 
you used to live in. You know about that? ” 

“What about it, Chet?” the little girl asked 
rather timidly. “ Do you mean where I lived with 
my mamma and papa before they — they went 
away? ” 

“ Yes. That’s the place.” 

“ It was an apartment,” explained Carolyn May. 

“ Yep. Well, Mr. Stagg ain’t never done nothin’ 
about it. He ain’t sold it, nor sold the furniture, nor 
nothin’. You know, Car’lyn May, your folks didn’t 
leave you no money.” 

“ Oh ! Didn’t they? ” cried Carolyn May, greatly 
startled. 

“ No. You see, I heard all about it. Mr. Vickers, 
the lawyer, came in here one day, and your uncle read 
a letter to him out loud. I couldn’t help but hear. 
The letter was from another lawyer and ’twas all 
about you and your concerns. I heard it all,” said 
the quite innocent Chet. He had never been taught 
that it was wrong to listen to other people’s private 
matters and to repeat them. 

Carolyn May’s lips expressed a round “ O ” of 
wonder and surprise. Like his mother, Chet Gorm- 
ley did not have to be urged when he was telling a 
bit of news. He was too deeply interested in it 
himself. 

“ And Mr. Vickers says : ‘ So the child hasn’t 


128 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


anything of her own, Joe? ’ ” Chet went on. “ And 
your uncle says : 4 Not a dollar, ’cept what I might 
sell that furniture for.’ And he hasn’t sold it yet, 
I know. He just can’t make up his mind to do it, 
it seems. 

“ My maw says Mr. Stagg always was that way — 
that he hates to let go of anything he once gets in 
his hands. But it ain’t that, I tell her,” declared 
Chet. “ It’s just that he can’t make up his mind to 
sell them things that was your mother’s, Car’lyn 
May,” added the boy, with a deeper insight into 
Mr. Stagg’s character than one might have given him 
credit for possessing. 

But Carolyn May had heard some news that im- 
pressed her more deeply than this idiosyncrasy of 
Joseph Stagg’s. It made her suddenly quiet, and 
she was glad a customer came into the store just 
then to draw Chet Gormley’s attention. 

The child had never thought before about how 
the good things of life came to her — her food, 
clothes, and lodging. She had never heard much 
talk of ways and means at home between her father 
and mother. When she had come to her uncle, if 
she had thought about it at all, she had supposed 
her parents had left ample means for her support, 
even if Uncle Joe did “ take her home and look out 
for her,” as she had suggested to him at their first 
interview. 

But, now, Chet Gormley’s chattering had given 
her a new view of the facts of the case. There had 


CHET GORMLEY TELLS SOME NEWS 129 

been no money left to spend for her needs. Uncle 
Joe was just keeping her out of charity! 

“ And Prince, too,” thought the little girl, with a 
lump in her throat. “ He hasn’t got any more home 
than a rabbit! And Uncle Joe don’t really like 
dogs — not even now. 

“ Oh, dear me ! ” pursued Carolyn May. “ It’s 
awful hard to be an orphan. But to be a poor 
orphan — just a charity one — is a whole lot worse, 
I guess. 

“ Of course, uncles aren’t like little girls’ real 
parents. Papas and mammas are glad, I guess, to 
pay for clothes and food and schoolbooks, and 
everything. But if a little girl is only a charity 
orphan, there aren’t really any folks that want to 
support her. I wonder if I ought to stay with Uncle 
Joe and Aunty Rose and make them so much 
trouble ? ” 

The thought bit deep into the little girl’s very 
impressionable mind. The idle chatter of the not 
very wise, if harmless, Chet Gormley was destined 
to cause Carolyn May much perturbation of spirit. 

She did not remain at the store until her uncle 
returned. Chet urged her to stay and go home with 
him for dinner when Mr. Stagg came back, but the 
little girl did not feel that she could do this. She 
wished to be alone and to think over this really tragic 
thing that faced her — the ugly fact that she was a 
“ charity child.” 

“ And you’re a charity dog, Prince Cameron,” 


I 3 0 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

she said aloud, looking down at the mongrel who 
walked sedately beside her along the country road. 
“ I don’t expect you ever thought of it. You never 
did have any money, and you don’t really know who 
your parents are. You began being a charity dog 
so early that it hasn’t never mattered to you at all — 
that’s how I s’pose it must be. 

“ And, then, you were always loved. Papa loved 
you, and so did mamma; and, of course, I always 
loved you to death, Princey ! ” she cried, putting both 
arms suddenly around the dog’s neck. 

“ I — I guess that’s where it must be,” pursued 
Carolyn May. “ If persons are only loved, it doesn’t 
matter if they are charity. The love takes all the 
sting out of being poor, I guess. But I don’t know 
if Uncle Joe just does love me or not.” 

The little girl had loitered along the road until 
it was now dinner time. Indeed, Aunty Rose would 
have had the meal on the table twenty minutes 
earlier. Mr. Stagg had evidently remained at The 
Corners to sell the cow and eat dinner, too — thus 
“ killing two birds with one stone.” 

And here Carolyn May and Prince were at Mr. 
Parlow’s carpenter shop, just as the old man was 
taking off his apron preparatory to going in to his 
dinner. When Miss Amanda was away nursing, the 
carpenter ate at a neighbour’s table. 

Now, Miss Amanda appeared on the side porch. 

“Where are you going, little girl?” she asked, 
smiling. 


CHET GORMLEY TELLS SOME NEWS 13 1 

“ Home to Aunty Rose,” said Carolyn May 
bravely. “ But I guess I’m late for dinner.” 

“ I didn’t know but something had happened,” 
said Mr. Parlow, going, heavy-footed, up the porch 
steps, “ when I seen Joe Stagg hikin’ by more’n two 
hour ago.” 

Carolyn May told about the man wanting to buy 
the cow. Mr. Parlow sputtered something from 
the depths of the wash-basin about the buyer “ payin’ 
two prices for the critter, if he bought her of Joe 
Stagg,” but his daughter hastened to cover this by 
saying : 

“ Don’t you want to come in and eat with us, 
Carolyn May? Your own dinner will be cold.” 

“Oh, may I?” cried the little girl. Somehow, 
she did not feel that she could face Uncle Joe just 
now with this new thought that Chet Gormley’s 
words had put into her heart. Then she hesitated, 
with her hand on the gate latch. 

“Will there be some scraps for Prince?” she 
asked. “Or bones?” 

“ I believe I can find something for Prince,” 
Miss Amanda replied. “ I owe him more than one 
good dinner, I guess, for killing that snake. Come 
in, and we will see.” 

The little girl at once became more cheerful. She 
washed her hands and face at the pump bench, as 
had Mr. Parlow. She found his big spectacles for 
him (Miss Amanda declared he always managed to 
lose them when he took them off) ; and Carolyn May 


i 3 2 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

wiped the lenses, too, before the carpenter set them 
on his nose again. 

“ There ! I believe I kin see good for the first 
time to-day,” he declared. “ I reckon I could have 
seen my work better all the forenoon if I’d had my 
specs polished up that-a-way. You air a spry young- 
’un, Carolyn May.” 

With this heart-warming word of approval, they 
went in to dinner. Miss Amanda was already “ dish- 
ing up.” Unlike the custom at the Stagg house, the 
Parlows ate in the dining-room. The kitchen was 
small. 

It seemed quite like old times to Carolyn May. 
Miss Amanda’s way of setting the table and serving 
the food was like her mamma’s way. There were 
individual bread-and-butter plates, and a knife for 
one’s butter and another for one’s meat, and several 
other articles of table furnishings that good Aunty 
Rose knew nothing about. 

Carolyn May thought that Miss Amanda, in her 
house dress and ruffled apron, with her sleeves turned 
back above her dimpled, brown elbows, was prettier 
than ever. Miss Amanda had retained her youth- 
fulness to a remarkable degree. Although she was, 
quiet, there was a sparkle in her brown eyes, and a 
brisk note in her full, contralto voice that charmed 
the little girl. Her cheerful observations quite en- 
livened Carolyn May again. 

Even Mr. Parlow proved to be amusing when he 
was “ warmed up.” 


CHET GORMLEY TELLS SOME NEWS 133 

“ So you didn’t want to go home with Chet Gorm- 
ley for dinner, eh?” he repeated. “ Mebbe you 
thought Chet wouldn’t leave nothin’ for anybody 
else to eat? ” 

“ Oh, no, Mr. Parlow, it wasn’t that! ” Carolyn 
May said, shaking her head. 

“ But it might ha’ been,” chuckled the carpenter, 
“ if you’d ever seen Chet eat.” 

44 Now, father! ” admonished Miss Amanda. 

44 Never did see him eat, did you? ” pursued the 
carpenter, still chuckling. 

44 No, sir.” 

44 Wal, he’s holler to his heels, and it’s an all-fired 
long holler, at that! Chet worked for Deacon All- 
bright, out on the South Road, ’fore he went to 
Stagg’s store. He only worked there part of a sea- 
son, for he an’ the deacon couldn’t get along — no 
more’n twin brothers,” declared Mr. Parlow. 

44 Fust place, the deacon is rayther near — has 
enough on the table to eat, but jest enough, an’ that’s 
all. One o’ them tables where there ain’t no scrap- 
in’s for ary cat or dog when the folks is through. 
But, to hear Deacon Allbright ask a blessin’ on it, 
you’d think ev’ry meal was a banquet. 

44 Wal, Chet was a boy, an’ he was tearin’ hungry, 
I reckon, when he got to the table, and the deacon’s 
long-winded prayers was too much for Chet’s appe- 
tite. With the dinner dished up and his plate full, 
that poor hungry little snipe had to wait while the 
deacon filled his mouth with big words. 


i 3 4 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

“ An’ one day at dinner, when they had some vis- 
itors,” chuckled Mr. Parlow, “ it got too much for 
Chet Gormley. Ha’f-way through the deacon’s 
blessin’ the boy began to eat. I spect he couldn’t 
help it. The deacon didn’t have his eyes shut very 
tight, an’ he seen him, and frowned. 

“ But that didn’t make no manner o’ odds to Chet. 
He’d got a taste, and his appetite was whetted. He 
begun mowin’ away like a good feller. With right- 
eous indignation, the deacon cleared his throat, and 
then ended his long prayer with this : 

“ ‘ An’ for what we air about to receive, and for 
what Chet Gormley has already received \ let us be 
truly grateful.’ ” 

Carolyn May laughed politely, but she could sym- 
pathise with poor Chet. He did look hungry, he 
was so long and lathlike. So they chatted through- 
out the meal, and the little girl began to feel better 
in her mind. 

“ I think you are lovely, Miss Amanda,” she said 
as she helped wipe the dishes after the carpenter 
had gone back to the shop. “ I shall always love 
you. I guess that anybody who ever did love you 
would keep right on doing so till they died ! They 
just couldn’t help it! ” 

“ Well, now, that is a compliment! ” laughed Miss 
Amanda. “ You think if I once made friends I 
couldn’t lose them?” 

“ I’m sure they’d always love you — just the same” 
repeated Carolyn May earnestly. She had Uncle 


CHET GORMLEY TELLS SOME NEWS 135 

Joe in mind now. “ How could they help doing it? 
Even if — if they didn’t darest show it.” 

“ What’s that? ” asked Miss Amanda, looking at 
her curiously. 

“ Yes, ma’am. Maybe they wouldn’t darest show 
it,” said the little girl confidently. “ But they’d just 
have to love you. You must be a universal fav’rite, 
Miss Amanda.” 

“Indeed?” said the woman, laughing again, yet 
with something besides amusement expressed in her 
countenance. “ And how about you, Chicken Little? 
Aren’t you universally beloved, too? ” 

“ Oh, I don’t expect so, Miss Amanda,” said the 
child. u I wish I was.” 

“ Why aren’t you? ” 

“ I — I — Well, I guess it’s just because I’m not,” 
Carolyn May said desperately. “ You see, after all, 
Miss Amanda, I’m only a charity child.” 

“ A what ? ” gasped Miss Amanda, almost drop- 
ping the salad dish she was herself wiping. “ What 
are you, child? ” 

u I’m charity,” Carolyn May repeated, having 
hard work to choke back the tears. “ You know — 
my papa and mamma — didn’t — didn’t leave any 
money for me.” 

“ Oh, my child!” exclaimed Miss Amanda. 
“Who told you that?” 

“ I — I just heard about it,” confessed the little 
visitor. 

“ Not from Aunty Rose Kennedy? ” 


1 36 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

“ Oh, no, ma’am.” 

44 Did that — Did your uncle tell you such a 
thing? ” 

44 Oh, no! He’s just as good as he can be. But, 
of course, he doesn’t much like children. You know 
he doesn’t. And he just ’bominates dogs! 

44 So, you see,” added the child, 44 1 am charity. 
I’m not like other little girls that’s got papas and 
mammas. Course, I knowed that before, but it 
didn’t ever seem — seem so hard as it does now,” 
she confessed, with a sob. 

44 My dear ! my dear ! ” cried Miss Amanda, drop- 
ping on her knees beside the little girl, 44 don’t talk 
so ! I know your uncle must love you.” 

44 Do you s’pose so? ” queried Carolyn May, try- 
ing not to cry. 

“He must! How could he help loving you? 
Immersed as Joseph Stagg is in business and his own 
selfish projects, he cannot be so hard-hearted as not 
to love his only sister’s child.” 

Carolyn May clutched at her, suddenly and 
tightly. 

44 Oh, Miss Mandy!” she gasped, “don’t you 
s’pose he loves other folks, too? You know — folks 
he’d begun to love ever so long ago? ” 

The woman’s smooth cheeks burned suddenly, 
and she stood up. 

“ I’m ’most sure he’d never stop loving a person, 
if he’d once begun to love ’em,” said Carolyn May, 
with a high opinion of the faithfulness of Uncle 


CHET GORMLEY TELLS SOME NEWS 137 

Joe’s character. “ But how do I know he ever has 
loved me the least tiny bit? ” 

Miss Amanda was evidently impressed by this 
query. How could the child be sure? Mr. Stagg 
was not in the habit of revealing his deeper thoughts 
and feelings to the world. And, yet, if she would 
but admit it, Amanda Parlow believed that she, if 
any person could, rightly measured the hardware 
dealer’s character. 

She sat down in a low rocking-chair and drew 
Carolyn May into her lap. The little girl sobbed a 
bit, but rested her head quietly on the woman’s 
bosom. 

“ Do you want to know if your Uncle Joe loves 
you? ” she asked Carolyn May at last. “ Do you? ” 

“ Oh, I do ! ” cried the little girl. 

“ Then ask him,” advised Miss Amanda. “ That’s 
the only way to do with Joe Stagg, if you want to get 
at the truth. Out with it, square, and ask him.” 

“Oh, Miss Mandy! would you dare?” gasped 
Carolyn May. 

“ It doesn’t matter what I’d dare,” said the other 
drily. “ You go ahead and ask him — and ask him 
point-blank.” 

“ I will do it,” Carolyn May said seriously. 
Afterwards she wondered if that were not the way, 
too, to settle the difficulty between Uncle Joe and 
pretty Miss Amanda. 

After the child had gone the woman went back 
into the little cottage, and her countenance did not 


138 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

wear the farewell smile that Carolyn May had 
looked back to see. 

Gripping at her heart was the old pain she had 
suffered years before, and the conflict that had 
seared her mind so long ago was roused again. 
Time, if not the great physician for all wounds, 
surely dulls the ache of them. Miss Amanda’s emo- 
tions had been dulled during the years which had 
passed since she and Joseph Stagg had broken their 
troth. Carolyn May — surely with the best inten- 
tions in the world — had rasped this wound. The 
woman sat in the kitchen rocker and wrung her hands 
tightly as she thought. 

How peacefully, how beautifully, her life had be- 
gun! She had bloomed into, young womanhood and 
had met every prospect of happiness on its thresh- 
old. She had loved and had been loved. She had 
been as sure of her lover’s heart in those days as she 
was of her own. 

Then had come the crash of all her hopes and 
all her believing. Too proud to demand an expla- 
nation of her lover, too much her father’s daughter 
to show Joseph Stagg what she really felt and suf- 
fered, Amanda Parlow had gone her way, not steel- 
ing her heart to tenderness, but striving to satisfy its 
longings with a work which, after all, she realised 
was a thankless task. 

She lavished her sympathy on the afflicted; but, 
deep in her soul, she felt no satisfaction in this. She 
felt that the higher qualities of her nature were not 


CHET GORMLEY TELLS SOME NEWS 139 

developed. She craved that satisfaction in life which 
a woman finds in a home, in a husband, and in little 
children. 

“ Oh, Joe! Oh, Joe! How could you?” she 
moaned, rocking herself to and fro. “ How could 
you?” 


CHAPTER XIII 


BREAKING THROUGH 

C AROLYN MAY always spent a part of each 
Saturday afternoon, unless it rained, in the 
neglected graveyard behind The Corners 
church. One might think that this was not a very 
cheerful spot for a little girl — and a dog — at any 
time. But the little girl, as a usual thing, carried her 
own cheerfulness with her. 

Even on this day, when Chet Gormley’s ill-advised 
gossip had so smitten her with secret grief, she would 
not let the burden she carried utterly quench her 
spirit. She was brave. 

She did not tell Aunty Rose where she was going, 
although she reported her return from Sunrise Cove 
to that good woman and explained where she had 
stopped for dinner. 

“ Well, well, with Jedidiah Parlow and his daugh- 
ter! I would not tell Joseph Stagg about it, if I 
were you, child,” was Aunty Rose’s comment. 

Carolyn May had no intention of speaking to 
Uncle Joe about her visit to the carpenter and Miss 
Amanda; yet, having sounded the hardware dealer 
on that point before, she did not think he would 
really mind if she called on the “ pretty lady.” 

140 


BREAKING THROUGH 


141 

There was something else — something very much 
more important — that she desired to talk to Uncle 
Joe about, and she was thinking very hard over it 
as she trimmed the long grass about the three little 
baby graves in the Kennedy lot and about the longer 
grave of Aunty Rose’s husband. 

“ Now I have caught the culprit,” said a voice 
behind her, and Carolyn May looked up to see the 
Reverend Afton Driggs smiling down at her. 

u It had begun to puzzle me why this little patch 
of our old graveyard looked so much better than the 
rest. I might have known you had something to do 
with it,” went on the minister. 

Carolyn May sighed. u I just wish I could clean 
up all this cemetery. I think, maybe, it would please 
them.” 

“Please whom?” asked the minister rather 
startled. 

“ Why, the folks that are buried here ! I suppose 
they must know about it. Their spirits, of course — 
the parts of ’em that keep on living. I should think 
it would please ’em if their graves were kept neat.” 

Mr. Driggs looked thoughtfully about the untidy 
graveyard. 

“ It would seem as though ‘ out of sight is out of 
mind ’ in many cases of old graveyards, Carolyn 
May. Yes, you are right. Families move away or 
die out entirely. The burial lots are left to the mercy 
of strangers. 

“ ‘ Brother, keep my memory green ! ’ And we 


142 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

forget the friend who has really meant much to us — 
or, perhaps, we beflower the grave once a year. But 
that does not keep his memory green; it is only a 
salve to our own consciences. Perhaps Memorial 
Day is of doubtful value, after all.” 

Probably Carolyn May had not heard the clergy- 
man’s comment. Surely, she had not understood it. 
But she said now: 

“ Yes. There’s Miss Wade — over yonder.” 

“Eh?” exclaimed the minister, turning quickly, 
expecting to see the person of whom Carolyn May 
spoke. “ There’s who? ” 

“ Miss Wade. Or, I s’pose she was a miss. She’s 
not a ‘ spouse,’ or a ‘ beloved relict,’ or ‘ wife of the 
above.’ So, I guess, she was a maiden lady.” 

“Oh!” ejaculated the clergyman. “That old 
stone in the corner? ” 

“ Yes, sir. That leany one. You know it says: 
1 Lydia Wade. Died of smallpox. Anno Domini , 
1762.’ 

“ I know what anno Domini means. It’s after the 
birth of Christ. I thought, at first, it was the name 
of somebody else buried in the same grave — and 
that he had smallpox, too. 

“ It must be dreadful to have smallpox and be 
buried off in one corner of the graveyard by one’s 
self. Do you s’pose they did that to Miss Wade 
’cause they were ’fraid of other folks here catch- 
ing it? ” 

“ It might be, my dear,” said the clergyman. 


BREAKING THROUGH 


i43 

“ But she was buried a long, long time ago. Prob- 
ably before there was any church here.” 

“ Well, I guess Miss Wade was buried — poor 
thing! — so long ago that there isn’t any danger of 
catching the smallpox from her,” sighed the little 
girl, yet with relief in her tone. “ Anyway, I’m not 
afraid, for I’ve been vaccernated, and it took! ” 

The Reverend Afton Driggs thought this a rather 
gruesome subject for Carolyn May; but, with the 
latter, everything worth talking about at all could 
be given a cheerful atmosphere. She got to her feet 
with a sigh of satisfaction, and Prince awakened out 
of his doze in the shelter of the wall. 

“ There ! I spect this is the last chance I’ll have 
to clean up this place ’fore snow flies. Tim, the 
hackman, says it is bound to snow soon, and the frost 
has burned ’most all the grass.” 

“ I presume winter is almost upon us,” agreed Mr. 
Driggs. “ Does the thought of it make you un- 
happy? ” 

“ Me? Oh, no, Mr. Driggs! I guess we can be 
just as happy in winter as in summer — or fall — or 
spring. All we’ve got to do is to look up, and not 
down , all the time. See how blue the sky is! And 
there are wild geese flying over, aren’t there?” she 
cried. 

“ Why, even the wild geese must look up, Mr. 
Driggs. They’re looking for where it’s going to be 
warm weather, with the streams and ponds open, I 
s’pose. So, after all, I guess they’re wiser than some 


i 4 4 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

human folks, even If they are geese. Don’t you 
think so? ” 

“ I believe you, Carolyn May,” cried the minis- 
ter, taking her little hand in his own as they walked 
out of the churchyard. 

Tim, the hackman, was a true weather prophet. 
That very night the first snow flurry of the season 
drove against the west window panes of the big 
kitchen at the Stagg homestead. It was at supper 
time. 

“ I declare for’t,” said Mr. Stagg, “ I guess win- 
ter’s onto us, Aunty Rose.” 

“ It has made an early start,” agreed the house- 
keeper. “ I trust you have made everything snug 
and fast for the season, Joseph Stagg.” 

“ I reckon so,” said the hardware dealer easily. 
“ Plenty of wood in the shed and a full pork barrel,” 
and he chuckled. 

Just then Prince whined out on the cold porch 
and rattled his chain. Uncle Joe never seemed to 
notice it! 

Carolyn May went to bed that evening in a much 
more serious mood than usual. Before going she 
got a heap of old sacks from the woodshed for poor 
Prince to snuggle down in. 

This snow did not amount to much; it was little 
more than a hoar-frost, as Mr. Stagg said. It 
frosted the brown grass, but melted away in the 
paths. This might be, however, the last chance for 
a Sunday walk in the woods for some time, and 


BREAKING THROUGH 


145 


Carolyn May did not propose to miss it. It was the 
one thing Uncle Joe did for her that the little girl 
could hope was done because he loved her — “ oh, a 
teeny, weeny mite ! ” 

Of course, uncles and guardians just had to take 
little girls home and feed and clothe them — or else 
send them to a poorhouse. Carolyn May understood 
that. But going for a Sunday walk was different. 
Uncle Joe’s yielding to her desire in this matter 
awoke the fluttering hope in the child’s breast that 
she was beloved. 

On this Sunday she wished particularly to get him 
off by himself. Her heart was filled with a great 
purpose. She felt that they must come to an under- 
standing. 

They walked to the very glade where they had 
met Miss Amanda Parlow, and Prince had killed 
the blacksnake. Somehow, their steps always seemed 
to turn that way. But they had never come upon 
Miss Amanda in their walks a second time. 

On this particular occasion Uncle Joe sat down 
upon the log by the brook where Miss Amanda had 
once sat. Carolyn May stood before him. 

“ Uncle Joe,” the little girl said, her blue eyes 
dark with trouble, “ will you tell me something? ” 

“ I reckon so, child, if I can,” he responded, look- 
ing at her curiously. 

“Am — am I just charity, Uncle Joe?” 

“Huh? What’s that, Car’lyn May?” he ex- 
claimed, startled. 


i 4 6 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

“Am I just a charity orphan? Didn’t my papa 
leave any money a -tall for me? Did you take me 
just out of charity? ” 

“ Bless me ! ” gasped the hardware dealer. 

“ I — I wish you’d answer me, Uncle Joe,” went 
on Carolyn May with a brave effort to keep from 
crying. “ Isn’t there any money left for me — and 
Princey? ” 

Joseph Stagg was too blunt a person to see his 
way clear to dodging the question. And he could 
not speak a falsehood. 

“ Hum! Well, I’ll tell you, Car’lyn May. There 
isn’t much left, and that’s a fact. It isn’t your 
father’s fault. He thought there was plenty. But 
a business he invested in got into bad hands, and the 
little nest egg he’d laid up for his family was lost.” 

“All lost, Uncle Joe?” quavered Carolyn May. 

“ All lost,” repeated the hardware merchant 
firmly. 

“ Then — then I am just charity. And so’s Prince,” 
whispered Carolyn May. “ I — I s’pose we could 
go to the poorhouse, Prince and me; but they mayn’t 
like dogs there.” 

“What’s that?” ejaculated Joseph Stagg in a 
sharp tone. “ What’s that? ” he repeated. 

“ I — I know you aren’t just used to children,” 
went on Carolyn May, somewhat helplessly. 
“ You’re real nice to me, Uncle Joe; but Prince and 
me — we really are a nuisance to you.” 

The man stared at her for a moment in silence, 


BREAKING THROUGH 


i47 


but the flush that dyed his cheeks was a flush of 
shame. The very word he had used on that fateful 
day when Carolyn May Cameron had come to The 
Corners ! He had said to himself that she would be 
a nuisance. 

“ Maybe we ought to have gone to a poorhouse 
right at first/’ stammered the little girl, when Mr. 
Stagg broke in on her observation in a voice so 
rough that she was startled. 

“ Bless me, child ! Who put such an idea into 
your head? ” 

“ I — I thought of it myself, Uncle Joe.” 

“ Don’t you like it any more here with Aunty Rose 
and — and me?” he demanded. 

“ Oh, yes ! Only — only, Uncle Joe, I don’t want 
to stay, if we’re a nuisance, Prince and me. I don’t 
want to stay, if you don’t love me.” 

Joseph Stagg had become quite excited. He stood 
up, running his fingers through his bushy hair, and 
knocking off his hat. 

“ Bless me ! ” he finally cried once more. “ How 
do you know I don’t love you, Car’lyn May? ” 

“ Why — why — But, Uncle Joe! how do I know 
you do love me? ” demanded the little girl. “ You 
never told me so!” 

The startled man sank upon the log again. 

“ Well, maybe that’s so,” he murmured. “ I 
s’pose it isn’t my way to be very — very — softlike. 
But listen here, Car’lyn May.” 

“ Yes, sir.” 


148 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

“ I ain’t likely to tell you very frequent how much 
I — I think of you. Ahem! But you’d better stop 
worrying about such things as money and the like. 
What I’ve got comes pretty near belonging to you. 
Anyway, unless I have to go to the poorhouse my- 
self, I reckon you needn’t worry about going,” and 
he coughed again drily. 

“ As far as us loving you — Well, your Aunty 
Rose loves you.” 

“ Oh, I know she does ! ” agreed Carolyn May, 
nodding. 

“ Hum ! How do you know that so well, and yet 
you don’t know that I love you? ” 

“ Oh — well — now,” stammered Carolyn May, 
“ when there isn’t anybody else around but Aunty 
Rose and me, she tells me so.” 

“ Hum! ” Mr. Stagg cleared his throat. “ Well, 
there isn’t anybody else around here but you and 
me — and the dog,” and his eyes twinkled; “so I’ll 
admit, under cross-examination, that I love you.” 

“ Oh, Uncle Joe! ” She bounded at him, sobbing 
and laughing. “ Is it really so? Do you? ” 

For the first time Joseph Stagg lifted her upon 
his knee. She snuggled up against his vest and put 
one little arm around his neck — as far as it would 

go- 

u Dear Uncle Joe ! ” she sighed ecstatically. “ I 
don’t mind if I am charity. If you love me, it takes 
all the sting out. And I’ll help to make you happy, 
too!” 


BREAKING THROUGH 


149 

“ Bless me, child! ” came huskily, “ ain’t I happy 
enough? ” 

u Why, Uncle Joe, I don’t believe you can be 
really and truly happy, when you are always worry- 
ing about business. You don’t ever seem to have 
time to look up and see the sky, or stop to hear the 
birds sing. 

“ Seems to me, Uncle Joe,” concluded Carolyn 
May, giving a happy little jump on his lap, “ that if 
you let your mind sort o’ run on — on something be- 
sides hardware once in a while, maybe you would 
have time to show me how much you loved me. 
Then I wouldn’t have to ask.” 

The man looked at her somewhat blankly. Then 
he turned his head, ran his hand through his bushy 
hair, and gazed away meditatively. 

The little girl had awakened his heart. And that 
heart was very, very sore. 


CHAPTER XIV 


A FIND IN THE DRIFTS 

B EFORE the week was over, winter had come 
to Sunrise Cove and The Corners in earnest. 
Snow fell and drifted, until there was scarcely 
anything to be seen one morning when Carolyn May 
awoke and looked out of her bedroom windows but 
a white, fleecy mantle. 

This was more snow than the little girl had ever 
seen in New York. She came down to breakfast 
very much excited. 

“ What are we going to do about all this snow? ” 
she asked. “ Why! there isn’t any janitor to shovel 
off the walk, and no street cleaners to clear the 
crosswalks ! How am I ever going to get to 
school?” 

“ I reckon you’ll get to school, all right, if the 
men get through with the ploughs before half-past 
eight. And if Miss Minnie gets here,” chuckled 
Uncle Joe. 

He went out and fed the fowls for Aunty Rose 
and did the other chores. But when he started for 
the store, promising to send Chet Gormley up to dig 
the paths, he had to wade through drifts higher than 
the top rail of the fences. 


150 


A FIND IN THE DRIFTS 


151 

“ Don’t — don’t they shovel up the snow and put 
it in carts and carry it all away?” asked Carolyn 
May of Aunty Rose. 

“ Who ever heard the like? ” returned Mrs. Ken- 
nedy. u What kind of a way is that to do, child? 
And where would they cart it to? There’s just as 
much snow in one place as there is in another.” 

“ Why, in New York,” explained the little girl, 
“ there’s always an army of men at work after a 
snowstorm — poor men, you know. And lots and 
lots of wagons. My papa used to say the snow was 
a blessing to the poor who wanted to earn a little 
money. 

“ Of course, lots of the men that shovel snow 
don’t have warm coats — or mittens, even — or over- 
shoes ! They wrap their feet in potato sacks to keep 
them warm and dry.” 

“ Well, well,” murmured Aunty Rose. “ So that’s 
what they do with snow in the city, is it? Live and 
learn.” 

Uncle Joe had shovelled off the porch and steps, 
and Prince had beaten his own dooryard in the snow 
in front of his house. For he had a house of his 
own, now — a roomy, warm one — built by Mr. 
Parlow. 

It must be confessed that, although Uncle Joe 
paid for the building of this dog-house, it never 
would have been built by Jedidiah Parlow had it 
not been for Carolyn May. At first the grouchy old 
carpenter refused to do the job. 


152 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

“ I ain’t got to work for Joe Stagg’s money — not 
yit, I guess,” growled the carpenter. “ Tell him to 
git somebody else to build his house.” 

“ Oh, but Mr. Parlow,” gasped Carolyn May, 
quite amazed, “ it isn’t for Uncle Joe, you know! ” 

“What ain’t for your Uncle Joe?” demanded 
Mr. Parlow. 

“ The dog-house.” 

“ Why ain’t it? His money’s goin’ to pay for it, 
I reckon ! ” 

“ Oh, yes, that’s so,” admitted Carolyn May. 
“ But Prince is going to live in it, and, you know, 
Prince is a friend of yours, Mr. Parlow.” 

“ Wal, no gittin’ around sich logic, I do allow,” 
grunted the old man, his eyes twinkling, and the flush 
of anger dying out of his cheeks. “ I s’pose it is fur 
the dog. And the poor beast ain’t nobody’s enemy. 
Wal!” 

So Prince had his warm house for the winter. 
Now Carolyn May put on her rubber boots and 
warm coat and hood and went out to release the dog 
for his morning run. His “ morning scramble ” 
would be the better term on this occasion. Why, 
at the first bound he was buried in a drift! 

“ Isn’t it lucky,” said Carolyn May to Aunty 
Rose, who stood in the doorway, “ that Prince can 
smell his way around so well? If it wasn’t for his 
nose, he’d never be able to find his way out of those 
drifts. If I fell down in one, I know I wouldn’t be 
able to smell my way out again.” 


A FIND IN THE DRIFTS 


i53 


But after Chet Gormley had come and dug the 
paths, and the ox-teams had come along with ploughs 
to break out the roads, she found it possible to go 
to school. She took Prince with her. 

Prince had learned to behave very well at school 
now. He was not allowed in the schoolroom, but 
he remained on the porch or went back home, as he 
pleased. But he was always waiting at the door for 
his little mistress at recess and when the session 
closed. 

At noon Uncle Joe came home, dragging a sled — a 
big roomy one, glistening with red paint. Just the 
nicest sled Carolyn May had ever seen, and one of 
the best the hardware dealer carried in stock. 

“ Oh, my, that’s lovely! ” breathed the little girl 
in awed delight. “ That’s ever so much better than 
any sled I ever had before. And Prince could draw 
me on it, if I only had a harness for him. He used 
to drag me in the park. Of course, if he saw a cat, 
I had to get off and hold him.” 

Mr. Stagg, once started upon the path of good 
deeds, seemed to like it. At night he brought home 
certain straps and rivets, and in the kitchen, much to 
Aunty Rose’s amazement, he fitted Prince to a har- 
ness which the next day Carolyn May used on the 
dog, and Prince drew her very nicely along the 
beaten paths. 

“ But, if anybody would have told me, I’m free 
to confess I would not have believed it,” Aunty 
Rose declared, referring to Mr. Stagg’s actions in 


154 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

stronger language than Carolyn May had ever heard 
her use before. 

Carolyn May made a practice now of kissing 
Uncle Joe good-night when he started for the store 
after supper. “ ’Cause I’m always in bed when you 
get home,” she explained. 

Aunty Rose appeared not to notice this display 
of affection, and after a time Mr. Stagg got so used 
to it that he positively did not blush. But she climbed 
right into his lap and kissed him for the harness and 
sled, and the housekeeper felt in duty bound to com- 
ment upon it. 

“ You’re on the road to spoil that child, Joseph 
Stagg,” she said. 

“ Ahem ! ” coughed the hardware dealer, eyeing 
her with more boldness than he was usually able to 
display. “ Ahem ! I reckon somebody else around 
here began the spoiling — if any — Aunty Rose.” 

And the woman smiled grimly. “ Well,” she said, 
“you should not be in your second childhood — at 
your age.” 

By Saturday the roads were in splendid condition 
for sleighing. The heavy sleds, transporting timber 
or sawed planks from the camps and mills to town, 
packed the snow firmly. 

So Carolyn May went sledding. Soberly, Prince 
drew the new red sled and his little mistress along 
the road towards Miss Amanda’s. Of late the little 
girl wanted to see the carpenter’s daughter just as 
frequently as possible. There was a secret under- 


A FIND IN THE DRIFTS 


155 


standing between Miss Parlow and Carolyn May — 
something both thought of continually, but of which 
neither spoke directly. 

Carolyn May knew that the pretty lady was glad 
that Uncle Joe had come to love her. Every mark 
of affection that the hardware merchant showed his 
little niece the latter retailed to Miss Amanda, and 
each event lost nothing in the telling. 

Now she desired to show her friend the new sled 
and Prince’s harness. Mr. Stagg might still pass 
the Parlow house with his face averted; neverthe- 
less, his praises were sung to Miss Amanda continu- 
ally by Carolyn May. 

“ Now, Prince,” said the little girl as they set 
forth, “ I do hope we don’t meet any cats — or other 
dogs, either. Dogs are bad enough; but, you know, 
if you see a cat you cannot keep your mind on what 
you are doing.” 

Prince whined and wagged his ridiculous tail. It 
did seem as though he knew just what she was talk- 
ing about. 

However, until they got away from The Corners, 
at least, they met with no adventure. The black- 
smith hailed Carolyn May — he was a jolly fellow — 
and asked her if she wanted to have her horse 
sharpened. 

“ No, thank you, Mr. Lardner,” the little girl 
replied. “ You see, Prince has got his claws, so he 
can’t slip on the hard snow. He doesn’t need to be 
sharpened like the horses.” 


156 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

It was not altogether a pleasant afternoon, for 
there was a curtain of haze being drawn over the 
sun, and the wind was searching. And not only did 
the wind cut sharply, but it blew clouds of light snow 
from the tops of the drifts into one’s face and eyes. 
Carolyn May almost wished she had not started for 
Miss Amanda’s house — and this before she was half- 
way to her destination. 

Prince, however, did not seem to mind it much. 
The sled slipped easily over the beaten snow, and 
Carolyn May was a light load for him, for Prince 
was a strong dog. 

Out of sight of the houses grouped at The Cor- 
ners the road to town seemed as lonely as though it 
were a veritable wilderness. Here and there the 
drifts had piled six feet deep, for the wind had a 
free sweep across the barrens. 

“ Now, there’s somebody coming,” said Carolyn 
May, seeing a moving object ahead between the 
clouds of drifting snow spray. “ Is it a sleigh, 
Princey, or just a man? ” 

She lost sight of the object, then sighted it again. 

“ It must be a man. It can’t be a bear, Princey.” 
Everybody had told her there were no more bears 
left in the woods about Sunrise Cove. 

“ And, anyway, I’m only afraid of bears at night 
— when I go up to bed in the dark,” Carolyn May 
told herself. “ Here it is broad daylight! ” 

Besides, if it were any such animal, Prince would 
surely give tongue. He only sniffed and pricked up 


A FIND IN THE DRIFTS 


157 


his ears. The strange object had disappeared again. 

It was just at the place where the spring spouted 
out of the rocky hillside and trickled across the road. 
There was a sort of natural watering trough here 
in the rock where the horses stopped to drink. The 
dog drew the little girl closer to the spot. 

“ Where has that man gone to ? If it was a man.” 
Prince stopped suddenly and whined. 

“ What is the matter, Princey? ” demanded Caro- 
lyn May, really quite disturbed. There was some- 
thing in the drift that the wind was heaping beside 
the beaten track. What could it be? “Prince!” 

The dog barked, and then looked around at his 
mistress, as though to say: “ See there ! ” 

Carolyn May tumbled off the sled in a hurry. 
When she did so she slipped on a patch of snow-cov- 
ered ice and fell. But she was not hurt. 

“ There ! that’s where the water runs across the 
road. It’s all slippy — Oh ! ” 

It was the sleeve of a man’s rough coat thrust out 
of the snowbank that brought this last cry to the 
child’s lips. In a very few moments the sign of the 
unfortunate wayfarer would have been completely 
covered in the drifting snow. 

“ Oh, oh ! It’s a man ! ” burst from Carolyn 
May’s trembling lips. “ How cold he must be ! ” 

She was cold herself — and frightened. She had 
heard of people dying in the snow; and this person 
seemed perfectly helpless. 

“ Oh, dear me, Prince ! ” she cried, recovering a 


158 ' CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

measure of her courage. “ We can’t let him die 
here! We’ve just got to save him ! ” 

She plumped down on her knees and began brush- 
ing the snow away. She uncovered his shoulder. 
She took hold of this with her mittened hands and 
tried to shake the prone figure. 

He moved. It was ever so little, but it inspired 
Carolyn May with hope. She was not so much 
afraid of him now, she told herself. He was not 
dead. 

“ Oh, do wake up ! Please wake up ! ” she cried, 
digging away the snow as fast as possible. 

A shaggy head was revealed, with an old cap 
pulled down tightly over the ears. The man moved 
again and grunted something. He half turned over, 
and there was blood upon the snow, and a great 
frosted cake of it on the side of his face. 

Carolyn May was dreadfully frightened. The 
man’s head was cut and the blood was smeared over 
the front of his jacket. Now she could see a puddle 
of it, right where he had fallen on the ice — just as 
she had fallen herself. Only, he had struck his head 
on a rock and cut himself. 

“ You poor thing!” murmured Carolyn May. 
“ Oh, you mustn’t lie here! You must get up! 
You’ll — you’ll be frozen! ” 

“ Easy, mate,” muttered the man. “ I ain’t jest 
right in my top-hamper, I reckon. Hold hard, 
matey.” 

He tried to get up. He rose to his knees, but 


A FIND IN THE DRIFTS 


i59 

pitched forward again. Carolyn May was not afraid 
of him now — only troubled. 

“ I’ll take you to Miss Amanda,” cried the little 
girl, pulling at his coat again. “ She’s a nurse, and 
she’ll know just what to do for you. Come, Prince 
and I will take you.” 

The dog stood by whining, acting as though he 
knew just what the trouble was and was anxious to 
help. The man struggled up into a kneeling posture. 

“ My top-hamper ain’t jest right,” he murmured 
again. “That was a crack! Blood! I reckon I’m 
some hurt, miss.” 

“Well, I should say you were hurt!” Carolyn 
May responded briskly. “ But I know Miss Mandy 
can fix you up. Let’s go there — now! It’s awfully 
cold standing here.” 

“ Belike I can’t get there,” mumbled the man, still 
on his knees. 

“ Oh, you must! It’s not far. You were coming 
towards The Corners, weren’t you? ” 

“ I was bound out o’ town; yes, miss,” the man 
replied. 

“ Miss Amanda’s is the last house you passed, 
then. It isn’t far,” repeated Carolyn May. 

“ I — I don’t believe I kin make it, matey,” groaned 
the man, evidently not quite clear in his mind whom 
he was addressing. He weaved to and fro as he 
knelt, his eyes half-closed, muttering and groaning to 
himself. 

“ Oh, you mustn’t! ” cried Carolyn May. “ You 


i6o CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


mustn’t give up. Crawl onto my sled. Prince and I 
can drag you to Miss Amanda’s. Of course, we 

__ n 

can. 

“ Believe you’d better leave me here, matey,” 
muttered the man. 

But Carolyn May would not hear to that. She 
bustled about, brought the sled closer to him, and 
made Prince stand around properly in his harness. 
Then she guided the half-blinded man to the sled, on 
which he managed to drop himself. 

“ But that dog can’t never pull me, matey,” he 
declared faintly. 

“ Oh, yes, he can,” said Carolyn May cheerfully. 
“ I can help, too. When you have to do a thing, my 
Aunty Rose says, you just up and do it. Now, 
Princey — pull! ” 


CHAPTER XV 


THE OLD SAILOR 

A UNTY ROSE’S philosophy must have been 
r\ correct. Prince pulled, and Carolyn May 
pulled, and together they got the sled, with the 
old sailor upon it, to the Parlow carpenter shop. 

Mr. Parlow slid back the front door of his shop 
to stare in wonder at the group. 

“For the great land of Jehoshaphat ! ” he 
croaked. “ Car’lyn May! what you got there? ” 

“ Oh, Mr. Parlow, do come and help us — quick! ” 
gasped the little girl. “ My friend has had a dread- 
ful bad fall.” 

“Your friend?” repeated the carpenter. “I 
declare, it’s that tramp that went by here just now ! ” 

“ Oh, no, sir! he isn’t a tramp,” declared Carolyn 
May firmly. 

“ Why ain’t he, I sh’d like to know? ” grumbled 
Mr. Parlow, coming gingerly forward. 

“ Why, if he were, Prince wouldn’t have anything 
to do with him,” was the little girl’s assured reply. 
“ This gentleman is hurt, Mr. Parlow.” 

Mr. Parlow made a clucking noise in his throat 
when he saw the blood. 


1 62 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


“ Guess you’re right, Car’lyn May,” he admitted. 
“ Call Mandy. She must see this.” 

Miss Amanda’s attention had already been at- 
tracted to the strange arrival. She ran out and 
helped her father raise the injured man from the 
sled. Together they led him into the cottage. 

He was not at all a bad-looking man, although his 
clothing was rough and coarse. His hands were big 
and square, with blunt fingers, and the fingers were 
half-crooked, or half-closed, all the time. After- 
wards Carolyn May learned this was because the 
old man was a sailor and had pulled on ropes so 
many years. 

The trained nurse and her father helped the man 
to the couch, after removing his pilot coat. Miss 
Amanda brought warm water and bathed the wound, 
removing the congealed blood from his face and 
neck. 

“ I think there should be a stitch or two taken in 
this,” she said, “ but Dr. Nugent is a long way off. 
I can dress it all right and bind it up. But if it was 
sewed, the wound would not leave so bad a scar.” 

“ That’s no matter — no matter at all, matey,” the 
man hastened to say. “ I’ve no money for them 
doctors.” 

“ Ha ! ” coughed Mr. Parlow. “ It’s not a mat- 
ter of dollars — Well, Mandy, if you think you can 
fix him up all right ” 

The nurse was ready with lint and bandages and 
a dark, pleasant-smelling balsam in a bottle. Caro- 


THE OLD SAILOR 


163 

lyn May, who had untackled Prince on the porch, 
stood by, and watched Miss Amanda’s skilful fingers 
in wonder. 

The old sailor did not even groan, so the child had 
no idea that the drops of perspiration that gathered 
on his brow, and which Miss Amanda finally wiped 
away so tenderly, were called into being by acute 
suffering. 

When the last bandage was adjusted and the in- 
jured man’s eyes were closed, Mr. Parlow offered 
him a wine-glass of a home-made cordial. The sailor 
gulped it down, and the colour began to return to 
his cheeks. 

“ Where was you goin’, anyway? ” demanded the 
carpenter. “ This ain’t no good day to be travellin’ 
in. I don’t see what that child was a-thinkin’ on, to 
be out playin’ in such weather.” 

“ Lucky for me she was out,” said the sailor, more 
vigorously. 

“ Ya-as, I reckon that’s so,” admitted Mr. Parlow. 
“ But, where was you goin’ ? ” 

“ Lookin’ for a job, mate,” said the sailor. 
“ There’s them in town that tells me I’d find work 
at Adams’ camp.” 

“ Ha ! didn’t tell you ’twas ten mile away from 
here, did they? ” 

“Is it? Well, no, they didn’t tell me that,” 
admitted the visitor, “ or I’d not started so late. 
You see, I come up on a schooner. This here lake 
boatin’ ain’t in my line. I’m deep-water, I am.” 


1 64 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

“ So I should s’pose,” said Mr. Parlow. “ How’d 
you git up here, anyway? ” 

“ The war,’’ said the visitor. “ The war done it. 
Couldn’t git a good berth in any deep-water bottom. 
So I thought I’d try fresh-water sailin’. And now 
they tell me this here lake’ll be froze up solid and 
all the traffic stopped all winter long.” 

“ Likely to be,” admitted Mr. Parlow. 

“ Don’t it beat all ? ” murmured the sailor. “ And 
me up in this cold country — and full of rheumatiz. I 
tell you, matey, I been workin’ as quartermaster’s 
mate on the old Cross and Crescent Line, a-scootin’ 
’cross to Naples from N’York — there and back — 
goin’ on ten year. I ain’t goin’ to like it up here in 
this here cold, northern, snowbound country, I don’t 
believe.” 

“ What did you leave your boat for? ” asked the 
carpenter curiously. 

“What boat? This here lake schooner? I told 
you.” 

“ No. The other.” 

“ Oh, she was sunk. There’s things happenin’ 
over to the other side of the ocean, mate,” said the 
injured man earnestly, “ that you wouldn’t believe — 
no, sir! The Cross and Crescent Line’s give up 
business till after the war’s over, I reckon.” 

“ You’d better not encourage him to talk any 
more, father,” interposed Miss Amanda, coming 
into the room again. “ The best thing he can do 
for himself is to sleep for a while.” 


THE OLD SAILOR 165 

“ Thank ye, ma’am,” said the sailor humbly. “ I’ll 
try.” 

The carpenter went back to work. Miss Amanda 
took Carolyn May out into the kitchen. She looked 
at her rather curiously, and once she seemed about 
to speak seriously — perhaps about the injured sailor. 
Carolyn May sidetracked this, however, by asking: 

“ Don’t you think Prince is a very brave dog, 
Miss Amanda? You know, he’s almost like those 
Saint Bernard dogs that live in the Yalps and carry 
blankets and cunning little barrels around their necks 
to folks that get lost in the snow. You have seen 
pictures of ’em, haven’t you, Miss Amanda? ” 

u Yes, my dear,” agreed the pretty nurse, smiling. 

“ Only I never knew what the barrels were for,” 
admitted Carolyn May. “ Now, if the dogs found 
the poor men in the water, drownding, maybe the 
barrels would float and help keep ’em from sinking.” 

“ I hardly think it probable that the barrels were 
for that purpose,” said Miss Amanda, laughing. 

“ Anyway,” urged Carolyn May, “ Prince is just 
as brave as those other dogs.” 

“ Indeed, yes,” agreed the woman. “ And I think 
that a certain little girl is very brave, too.” 

“ Oh, but I couldn’t have got the poor gentleman 
here, if it hadn’t been for Prince.” 

“ Quite true. And he deserves a reward for that. 
We’ll call him in and give him a party,” said Miss 
Amanda. “ I have been saving some chicken bones 
for him.” 


1 66 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


“ Oh, my dear ! ” cried Carolyn May, “ he just 
adores chicken bones. You are the very kindest 
lady, Miss Amanda ! I love you, heaps and heaps — 
and so does Prince.” 

Darkness came on apace. The sky had become 
overcast, and there was promise of a stormy night — 
more snow, perhaps. But Miss Amanda would not 
allow Carolyn May and Prince to start for home at 
once. 

“ Watch for your uncle, Carolyn May, out of the 
front-room window, and be all ready to go with 
him when he comes along,” said Miss Parlow. 
“ No, it isn’t time for him yet. When the clock says 
ten minutes to five you can begin to look for him.” 

“Oh, my! Miss Amanda,” said Carolyn May 
wonderingly, “ how well you know his time for com- 
ing home, don’t you? ” 

Miss Amanda blushed and did not appear to think 
that question needed an answer. After that she 
seemed much preoccupied in mind. 

When Uncle Joe came along, Carolyn May ran 
out and hailed him from the porch. 

“Wait for me, Uncle Joe! Wait for me and 
Princey, please! Just let me get my mittens and 
Prince’s harness and kiss Miss Mandy.” 

That last she did most soundly, and in full view 
of the man waiting in the white road. Miss 
Amanda’s tenderness, as she knelt on the porch to 
button Carolyn May’s coat, was marked by the hard- 
ware dealer — and also her shining brown hair and 


THE OLD SAILOR 


167 

her eyes so bright and sparkling. But he made no 
comment on this picture when his little niece joined 
him. 

“ Oh, Uncle Joe, I’ve got just the wonderfulest 
story to tell you ! Shall we harness Prince up again, 
or will you ” 

u I can’t wait for the dog, Car’lyn May. I’m in 
a hurry. You oughtn’t to be out in this wind, either. 
Get aboard your sled, now, and I’ll drag you my- 
self,” Mr. Stagg interrupted. 

She obeyed him gaily. When he started off, she 
turned to wave her mittened hand to Miss Amanda, 
who still stood on the porch. But the door of the 
carpenter shop, where a lamp burned, was shut 
tightly. 

“ That woman will get her death of cold,” grum- 
bled Uncle Joe, starting off at a round pace. “ Don’t 
know enough to go in out o’ the cold.” 

But Amanda Parlow did not notice the cold. She 
was thinking of a time, oh, so long ago ! when Joe 
Stagg had seated her on his bright red sled and given 
her a ride. How her heart had beat when he had 
turned to gaze at her! And now — Slowly her 
eyes filled with tears, and again : 

“Oh, Joe! Joe! How could you ? ” 


CHAPTER XVI 


A SALT-SEA FLAVOUR 

S WIFTLY Joseph Stagg trudged towards home, 
dragging Carolyn May behind him. 

“ Oh, dear me ! ” exclaimed the little girl 
with exultation, “ we’re all so excited, Uncle Joe ! ” 
“ I can see you’re all of a-twitter,” he returned 
absent-mindedly. “ What’s the matter? ” 

“ Oh, you never could guess ! ” was Carolyn May’s 
introduction, and forthwith, in breathless sentences, 
went on to tell of her discovery in the snow and 
about the old sailor now lying asleep on the Parlow 
couch. 

“I vum!” ejaculated Uncle Joe, when he had 
listened to it all. “ Who ever heard the beat of that ! 
And Jed Parlow really helped take him in, did he? 
The day of miracles isn’t past, then, that’s sure.” 

Of course, when Carolyn May arrived at home, 
the story had to be told all over again to Aunty Rose 
Kennedy — all the details, even to Prince’s feast of 
chicken bones. If the housekeeper was surprised — 
as Joseph Stagg had been — that the carpenter should 
take the injured man into his house, she did not 
say so. 


168 


A SALT-SEA FLAVOUR 


169 

“ A mighty plucky youngster, this Car’lyn May of 
ours,” Uncle Joe remarked. “ What do you say, 
Aunty Rose ? ” 

“ She is, indeed, Joseph Stagg,” agreed the 
woman. 

Carolyn May was very much excited over the ad- 
venture, and, although it snowed some that night 
and the paths were drifted full in places, she wanted 
greatly to go down to the Parlow house the next day 
to see her “ sailor man,” as she called the unfortunate 
she had assisted. 

Naturally, she could not expect Uncle Joe to stop 
and ask how the sailor was, he not being on speaking 
terms with the Parlows; but the hardware dealer 
did pick up a morsel of news about the stranger and 
brought it home at noon time to detail to Aunty Rose 
and the little girl at the dinner table. 

“ I tell you,” Mr. Stagg maintained, “ Jed Par- 
low’s had a change of heart, or something. Know 
what he’s done ? ” 

“ I could not guess, Joseph Stagg,” said Aunty 
Rose austerely. 

“ Why, he’s letting that old tramp Car’lyn May 
picked up stay there till he gets well enough to work, 
so they tell me. Who ever heard the like? And 
Jed hasn’t a blessed thing for a man like that tramp 
to do at this time of year.” 

“ It’s Miss Amanda that lets him stay, I guess,” 
said Carolyn May with a wise little nod of her sunny 
head. 


1 7 o CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

“ Hum! ” grunted her uncle. “ Time was when 
Jed Parlow wouldn’t have played the part of a good 
Samaritan to the Angel Gabriel himself.” 

“ You should not say such things in the hearing 
of the child,” admonished Aunty Rose severely. 
“ Perhaps Jedidiah Parlow has been misjudged all 
these years. He may have a kinder heart than you 
think.” 

“ Kind-hearted ! ” snorted Mr. Stagg. “ If he’s 
got a heart at all, he’s successfully hidden it for nigh 
seventy years, from all I’ve heard tell.” 

“ Oh, Uncle Joe, he must have a heart, you know,” 
broke in Carolyn May earnestly. “ We had physer- 
ology studies in the school I used to go to, and you 
have to have hearts, and lungs, and livers, and other 
inwards, or else you couldn’t keep going. Mr. Par- 
low must have a heart.” 

“ I s’pose he must,” acknowledged Uncle Joe, 
“ from that standpoint. But, aside from its pumping 
blood through his arteries, his heart action hasn’t 
been what you might call excessive. And for him to 
take that old codger in out o’ the snow ” 

Aunty Rose interrupted, as she often did at such 
times, sternly. 

“ Joseph Stagg, for a man with ordinary, good 
common sense, as you’ve got, you do sometimes ’pear 
to be pretty near purblind. I shouldn’t wonder if 
Jedidiah Parlow has changed of late. It is more 
than probable.” 

Then, as Mr. Stagg continued to stare at her, 


A SALT-SEA FLAVOUR 17 1 

plainly surprised by her vehemence, the housekeeper 
continued : 

u Nor is he the only person that shows signs of 
change — and from the same cause. Have you never 
stopped to think of other changes nearer home that 
have been brought about by the same means? An- 
swer me, Joseph Stagg.” 

The hardware dealer cast a quick glance at Caro- 
lyn May, busy with her knife and fork, and had the 
grace to blush a little. Then, suddenly, his eyes 
twinkled, and a smile wreathed the corners of his 
mouth. 

“ Hold on, Aunty Rose. I say ! do you ever look 
in the mirror? ” 

“ Never mind about me, Joseph Stagg,” she re- 
joined rather tartly. “ Never mind about me! ” 

Carolyn May insisted on going to the Parlow 
house herself after school that afternoon to enquire 
about her “ sailor man.” She just had to know per- 
sonally how he was getting on ! 

The steady stream of timber sleds from Adams’ 
camp, and others, had beaten down the drifts again, 
so Aunty Rose made no objection to the little girl 
and the dog’s making this call. 

Mr. Parlow peered at them through the window 
of the carpenter’s shop and waved his hand; but 
Carolyn May went right into the house. When she 
had been kissed by Miss Amanda, and Prince had 
lain down by the kitchen range, the little girl de- 
manded: 


1 72 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

“ And do tell me how my sailor man is, Miss 
Mandy. He got such a bump on the head! ” 

“Yes; the man’s wound is really serious. I’m 
keeping him in bed. But you can go up to see him. 
He’s talked a lot about you, Carolyn May.” 

“ Is that so? ” eagerly cried the little girl. “ And 
I’m just as cur’ous about him as I can be.” 

“Why are you so curious about him?” asked 
Miss Amanda. 

“ Because he’s a sailor and has been away across 
the ocean — right to the place my papa and mamma 
were going to when the Dunraven was sunk. Don’t 
you see? They were going to Naples. That’s in 
Italy. And this sailor man told Mr. Parlow, Miss 
Amanda, that he has been to Naples. So he must 
have been through that Mediterranean Ocean, or 
sea, or whatever it is — right where my papa and 
mamma were lost.” 

The sailor lay in the warm bedroom over the 
kitchen. In bed, with his head bound up as though 
it were in a huge nightcap, he looked oddly like a 
gnome, for he was banked up with pillows, and wore 
one of Mr. Parlow’s flannelette nightshirts, which 
was too small for him. In spite of his odd habili- 
ments, his was a cheerful face — red, with few 
wrinkles, save about his eyes, and a scattering brush 
of grey bristles along his jaw, for he needed a 
shave. 

“ Hello, my hearties! ’’ was his rumbling greeting 
when Carolyn May and Miss Amanda appeared. 


A SALT-SEA FLAVOUR 


173 

“ This is the little miss I’ve got to thank for savin’ 
me yesterday.” 

u And my dog, sir,” said Carolyn May. “ He’s 
downstairs by the stove. Of course, I couldn’t have 
brought you here on my sled, if it hadn’t been for 
Princey.” 

“ That’s a fine dog,” agreed the sailor. “ I ain’t 
never seen a finer.” 

Carolyn May warmed to him more and more at 
this enthusiastic praise. She prattled on gaily and 
soon had her “ sailor man ” telling all about the sea 
and ships, and “ they that go down therein.” 

“ For, you see,” explained Carolyn May, “ I’m 
dreadful cur’ous about the sea. My papa and 
mamma were lost at sea.” 

“You don’t say so, little miss!” exclaimed the 
old fellow. “ Aye, aye, that’s too bad.” 

Miss Amanda had disappeared, busy about some 
household matter, and the little girl and the sailor 
were alone together. 

“ Yes,” Carolyn May proceeded, “ it is dreadful 
hard to feel that it is so.” 

“ Feel that what’s so, little miss? ” asked the man 
in bed. 

“ That my papa and mamma are really 
drownd-ed,” said the little girl with quivering lips. 
“ Some of the folks on their boat were saved. The 
papers said so.” 

“ Aye, aye ! ” exclaimed the sailor, his brows puck- 
ered into a frown. “Aye, aye, matey! that’s alius 


i 7 4 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

the way. Why, I was saved myself from a wreck. 
I was in the first officer’s boat, and we in that boat 
was saved. There was another boat — the purser’s, 
it was — was driftin’ about all night with us. We 
come one time near smashin’ into each other and 
wreckin’ both boats. There was a heavy swell on. 

“ Yet,” pursued the sailor, “ come daylight, and 
the fog splitting we never could find the purser’s 
boat. She had jest as good a chance as us after the 
steamship sank. But there it was! We got sepa- 
rated from her, and we was saved, whilst the purser’s 
boat wasn’t never heard on again.” 

“ That was dreadful ! ” sighed the little girl. 

“ Yes, little miss. And the poor passengers ! 
Purser had twenty or more in his boat. Women 
mostly. But there was a sick man, too. Why, I 
helped lower his wife and him into the boat ’fore I 
was called to go with the first officer in his boat. 
We was the last to cast off. The purser had jest as 
good a chance as we did. 

“ I guess I won’t never forgit that time, little 
miss,” went on the seaman, seeing the blue eyes fixed 
on his face, round with interest. “ No ! And I’ve 
seen some tough times, too. 

“ The ship was riddled. She had to sink — and it 
was night. We burned Coston lights, and our signal 
gun banged away for help, and the old siren tooted. 
The wireless top-hamper had been shot away in the 
fust place. 

“ We didn’t have no chance at all to save the ship. 


A SALT-SEA FLAVOUR 


175 


Some of the boats was smashed. Two was over- 
turned jest as they struck the water. There wasn’t 
any of the life rafts launched at all. But we didn’t 
have much of a panic; the steerage passengers was 
jest like dumb cattle. 

“ They was goin’ back to Italy because of the 
war — the men to fight, the women and children so’s 
to benefit by the Government pay to soldiers’ 
families.” 

This was mostly beyond Carolyn May’s compre- 
hension, but she listened to the sailor with serious at- 
tention. The seaman told his story as though it 
really were unforgetable. 

“ There was the sick man I told you about, little 
miss. He was a wonder, that feller! Cheerful — 
brave — Don’t often see a feller like him. Jokin’ 
to the last, he was. He didn’t want to go in the 
purser’s boat, if there was more women or children 
to go. 

“ We told him all the women folk had left the 
ship. So, then, he let me lower him down into the 
purser’s boat after his wife. And that boat had as 
good a chance as we had, I tell you,” repeated the 
seaman in quite an excited manner. 

“ Oh, dear me ! ” exclaimed Carolyn May. “ My 
papa and mamma might have been just like that,” 
she added. “ Of course, we don’t know whether 
they got off the steamship at all.” 

“ Aye, aye ! ” the sailor said. “ Pretty tough on 
you, little miss.” 


i 7 6 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

Miss Amanda had come back into the room, and 
she stood listening to the old man’s talk. She said : 

“ Carolyn May, I think you had better go down- 
stairs now. We mustn’t let our patient talk too 
much. It won’t be good for him.” 

So Carolyn May shook hands with the old sailor 
and started downstairs ahead of Miss Amanda. 
The latter lingered a moment to ask a question. 

“ What was the name of the steamship you were 
wrecked on? ” she asked. “ The one you were just 
telling about.” 

“ She was the Dunraven — the Dunraven , of the 
Cross and Crescent Line,” replied the mariner. 
“ Didn’t I tell you that before, ma’am? ” 


CHAPTER XVII 


WILL WONDERS NEVER CEASE? 

^GAIN it snowed all night. 

“ My goodness me ! ” sighed Carolyn May 
the next morning when she arose, to find all 
the paths filled up again. “ Don’t it ever stop snow- 
ing till springtime comes around again, Aunty 
Rose?” 

“ Oh, yes,” answered the housekeeper, smiling 
quietly. “ But I thought you loved the snow? ” 

“ 1 do,” the child responded. “ Anyway, I guess 
I do,” she added. “ But — but couldn’t they spread 
it out a little thinner? Seems to me we must be get- 
ting it all at once. Why, I can’t see any of the walls 
or fences ! ” 

That was true enough. Uncle Joe had even to dig 
Prince out of his house that morning. After that, 
when it stormed, Prince was allowed to lie by the 
kitchen fire — certainly a great concession on Aunty 
Rose’s part. 

This was really the heaviest storm of the season, 
so far. When Carolyn May floundered to school, 
with Prince going in front to break the path, there 
was a huge bank of snow piled against one corner 
177 


1 78 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

of the schoolhouse. This quite closed up the boys’ 
door, and only the girls’ entrance could be used. 

But the boys got to work at recess and tunnelled 
through the great drift, so that there was a passage 
to their door. The wind had packed the snow hard, 
and the crust had frozen, so there was a safe roof 
over the tunnel through the snow. 

At noon some of the girls went through the pas- 
sage, too; and among them was Carolyn May. As 
she went down the steps she laughed gleefully, 
crying : 

“ Oh, it’s like going into the subway, isn’t it? ” 

“What’s the subway?” asked Freda Payne in- 
stantly. “ You don’t mean to say you have snow 
tunnels like this in the city, do you? You said men 
carted the snow all away in wagons, or melted it. 
Can’t be much snow where you come from, Car’lyn 
May.” 

“Oh, no; not snow tunnels,” the city child ex- 
plained. She had to do a good deal of explaining 
these days. “ The subway’s just a hole in the 
ground, and you go down steps into it, and it’s all — 
all marble, I guess, ’cause it’s white and shiny. And 
trains come along, and you get on, and you ride all 
the way from One Hundred and Twenty-fifth Street 
down to papa’s office, and ” 

“Oh, Car’lyn May Cam’ron!” shrieked Freda. 

“Trains under the ground?” demanded another 
of her schoolmates. 

“ Yes,” said the little city girl. 


WILL WONDERS NEVER CEASE? 179 

“ Trains of cars? Like our trains up here? ” 

“ Ye-es,” said Carolyn May slowly, feeling that 
her tale was disbelieved. 

“My mercy!” declared the black-eyed girl. 
“ That’s the biggest story you’ve told us yet. I’m 
going to tell my mamma about that. She says you’ve 
got such a ’magination. But I know this is just plain 
fib, and nothing else — so there! ” 

It hurt Carolyn May sorely to have her word 
doubted. She had begun to shrink from telling her 
little friends about any of the wonders which had 
been such commonplace matters to her when she had 
lived in New York. They simply could not believe 
the things the city child said were so. 

It was on this very day, and at noon time, when 
Mr. Stagg was returning to the store, that a most 
astounding thing happened. 

Had Mrs. Gormley seen it, that good woman 
would have had such a measure of gossip to relate 
as she had not enjoyed for a long time. It was, 
indeed, a most amazing occurrence. 

Mr. Stagg was walking briskly towards Sunrise 
Cove in his big felt snow-boots, such as all men wore 
in that locality, and was abreast of the Parlow shop 
and cottage — which he always sought to avoid look- 
ing at — when he heard a door open and close. 

He tried not to look that way. But his ear told 
him instantly that the person who had come out was 
Miss Amanda, rather than her father. Knowing 
this, how could he help darting a glance at her? 


180 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


For more years than he cared to count, Joseph 
Stagg had been passing back and forth along this 
road. Sometimes, in his secret heart, he wished the 
Parlow place would burn down, or be otherwise 
swept from its site. It was an abomination to him. 
Yet he was always tempted to steal a glance as he 
passed, in hope of seeing Miss Amanda. He often 
saw Mr. Parlow staring from his shop at him, his 
grey old face puckered into a scowl, but the car- 
penter’s daughter was seldom in evidence when Mr. 
Stagg went by. She might be, at such times, behind 
the front-room blinds peering out at him; but he did 
not know that. 

It had not always been so. As Chet Gormley’s 
gossipy mother had told Carolyn May, time was 
when the hardware dealer — then having just opened 
his store in Sunrise Cove — and the carpenter’s 
daughter were frequently together. 

Often when Joseph Stagg came in sight of the 
Parlow residence Amanda was at the gate. She 
sometimes walked to town with him. He even re- 
membered — but that was still earlier in their lives — 
pulling her on his red sled. There had never been 
any other girl Joe Stagg cared for. And now 

He ventured another quick glanGe towards the 
Parlow side of the road. Miss Amanda stood on the 
porch, looking directly at him. 

“ Mr. Stagg,” she called earnestly, “ I must speak 
to you.” 

Save on the Sunday when Prince had killed the 


WILL WONDERS NEVER CEASE? 181 


blacksnake, Miss Amanda had not spoken directly 
to the hardware merchant in all these hungry years. 
It rather shocked Joseph Stagg now that she should 
do so. 

“Will you come in?” she urged him, her voice 
rather tremulous. 

There was a moment of absolute silence. 

“ Bless me ! Yes! ” ejaculated the hardware man 
finally. 

He turned in at the path to the gate, opened the 
latter, and reached the porch. He was quite him- 
self when he arrived before her. 

“ I assure you, Mr. Stagg,” Miss Amanda said 
hurriedly, “ it is no personal matter that causes me 
to stop you in this fashion.” 

“ No, ma’am? ” responded the man stiffly. 

He was looking directly at her now, and it was 
Miss Amanda who could not bring her gaze to meet 
his. Her face had first flushed, and now was pale. 
The long lashes, lowered over her brown eyes, curled 
against her smooth cheek. Like Carolyn May, Mr. 
Stagg thought her a very lovely lady, indeed. 

“ I want you to come in and speak with this sailor 
who was hurt,” she finally said. “ Carolyn May 
has told you about him, hasn’t she ? ” 

“ The whole neighbourhood has been talking 
about it,” returned Joseph Stagg grimly. 

“Yes, I suppose so,” Miss Amanda said hastily. 
“ There is something he can tell you, Mr. Stagg, that 
I think you should know.” 


182 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


To say that he was puzzled would be putting it 
mildly. Mr. Stagg felt as though he were in a 
dream as he followed Miss Amanda indoors. And 
he expected an awakening at any moment. 

“ My father has gone into town, Mr. Stagg,” 
explained Miss Amanda, leading the way through 
the hall, or “entry,” into the kitchen. 

The cheerful little kitchen, full of light and 
warmth, was very attractive to Mr. Stagg. He had 
not been in it for a long time. The big rocking-chair 
by the window, in which Miss Amanda’s mother had 
for several years before her death spent her waking 
hours, was now occupied by the sailor. His head 
was still swathed in bandages, but his grey eyes were 
keen, and he nodded briskly to the storekeeper. 

“ This is the little girl’s uncle, Benjamin,” Miss 
Amanda said quietly. “ He will be interested in 
what you have already told me about the loss of the 
Dunr avert. Will you please repeat it all? ” 

“The Dunraven?” gasped Mr. Stagg, sitting 

down without being asked. “ Hannah ” 

“ There is no hope, of course,” Amanda Parlow 
spoke up quickly, “ that your sister, Mr. Stagg, and 
her husband were not lost. But having found out 
that Benjamin was on that steamer with them, I 
thought you should know. I have warned him to be 
careful how he speaks before Carolyn May. You 
may wish to hear the story at first hand.” 

“ Thank you,” choked Joseph Stagg. He wanted 
to say more, but could not. 


WILL WONDERS NEVER CEASE? 183 

Benjamin Hardy’s watery eyes blinked, and he 
blew his nose. 

“ Aye, aye, mate ! ” he rumbled, “ hard lines — 
for a fact. I give my tes-ti-mony ’fore the consul 
when we was landed — so did all that was left of us 
from the Dunraven. Me bein’ an unlettered man, 
they didn’t run me very clos’t. I can’t add much 
more to it. 

“ As I say, that purser’s boat your sister and her 
sickly husband was in had jest as good a chance as 
we had. We nigh bumped into each other soon after 
the Dunraven sunk. So, then, we pulled off aways 
from each other. Then the fog rolled up from the 
African shore — a heap o’ fog, mate. It sponged out 
the lamp in the purser’s boat. We never seen no 
more of ’em — nor heard no more.” 

He went on with other particulars, but all, so Mr. 
Stagg thought, futile and pointless. He knew the 
steamship, Dunraven , had sunk; and what mattered 
it whether Hannah and her husband had gone down 
with her or gone down with the purser’s boat a few 
hours later? In his agony of spirit, he said some- 
thing like this — and rather brusquely — to the old 
seaman. 

“ Aye, aye,” admitted Benjamin Hardy. 
“ ’Twould seem so to a landsman. But there is 
many a wonder of the sea that landsmen don’t know 
about, sir.” 

“ Tell Mr. Stagg about the fog and the current, 
Benjamin,” urged Miss Amanda. 


1 84 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

Joseph Stagg looked across the room at Miss 
Amanda, but he listened to the sailor. Benjamin 
Hardy had plainly thought much about the incidents 
surrounding the loss of the Dunraven. Perhaps, as 
time passed, and he saw those incidents in better per- 
spective, his wondering about them had evolved 
theories. Whether these theories were to be ac- 
cepted without suspicion was another matter. 

Joseph Stagg was not a credulous man. Indeed, 
he was, in a business sense, suspicious. Mr. Parlow 
had said that Joe Stagg bit every quarter he took in 
over his counter to find out whether it was lead or 
silver ! 

The hardware dealer listened now to the sailor’s 
rather wandering tale with more patience than in- 
terest. Indeed, it was as much out of politeness to 
Miss Amanda as anything that kept him from inter- 
rupting. 

“ It was the current confused us. The purser had 
a sea anchor out,” said Benjamin Hardy. “ Some- 
thing like a drag, mister. Kept his boat from 
driftin’. And that’s how us in the first officer’s boat 
come nigh smashin’ into him. There’s a strong set 
of the current towards the African coast in them 
parts. 

“ Well, sir, after the two boats come so nigh 
smashin’ into each other, the purser must have 
slipped his drag. Anyway, the fog come up thick 
from the south and hid their lights from us. We 
never heard no cry, nor nothin’. Then, after day- 


WILL WONDERS NEVER CEASE? 185 

break, the French battleships that had stood by 
picked us up, but we couldn’t find the purser’s boat. 

“ The fog still lay as thick as a blanket to the 
so’th’ard— how thick and how far we didn’t know. 
And the Frenchman, I reckon, was afraid it might 
hide more of the enemy, and she was crippled. No, 
sir, if the purser’s boat had drifted off that way — 
and the set of the tide was that way, I know — we 
couldn’t have seen nor heard her if she was more’n 
a mile off.” 

“ And were Hannah — were my sister and her hus- 
band in that boat? ” queried Mr. Stagg thoughtfully. 

“ I am sure, by the details Benjamin has given 
me,” said Miss Amanda softly, “ that your sister 
and Mr. Cameron were two of its passengers.” 

“ Well, it’s a long time ago, now,” said the hard- 
ware dealer. “ Surely, if they had been picked up 
or had reached the coast of Africa, we would have 
heard about it.” 

“ It would seem so,” the woman agreed gently. 

“ You never know what may happen at sea, mister, 
till it happens,” Benjamin Hardy declared. “ What 
became of that boat ” 

He seemed to stick to that idea. But the possi- 
bility of the small boat’s having escaped seemed 
utterly preposterous to Mr. Stagg. He arose to 
depart. 

“ Of course, you won’t say anything to the child 
to disturb her mind,” he said. “ Poor little thing! 
It’s hard enough for her as it is.” 


1 86 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


“ I’ll keep my jaws clamped shut like a clam, 
mister,” declared the sailor. 

Miss Amanda followed the hardware dealer to 
the outer door. She hesitated to speak, yet Mr. 
Stagg’s unhappy face won an observation from her. 

“ Oh, don’t you suppose there is any chance of 
their being alive? ” she whispered. 

“After all these months?” groaned Mr. Stagg. 
“ The old fellow may tell the truth, as far as he’s 
gone, and as far as he knows; but if they were alive 
we’d have heard about it before now. That African 
coast isn’t a desert — nor yet a wilderness — nowa- 
days. Those Arabs have been pretty well tamed, I 
reckon. No, we’d have heard long before this.” 

“ I’m sorry,” said Miss Amanda simply. 

“ Thank — thank you,” murmured Joseph Stagg 
before she closed the door. 

He went on to town, his mind strangely disturbed. 
It was not his sister’s fate that filled his heart and 
brain, but thoughts of Miss Amanda. 

She had deliberately broken the silence of years! 
Of course, it might be attributed to her interest in 
Carolyn May only, yet the hardware dealer won- 
dered. 

He could not get interested in the big ledger that 
afternoon. Old Jimmy, the cat, leaped upon his 
desk, purring, and walked right across the fair page 
of the book, making an awful smudge where the ink 
was not dry, and Joseph Stagg merely said: “ Scat, 
Jimmy! ” and paid no further attention. 


WILL WONDERS NEVER CEASE? 187 

Out through the office window he stared, and out 
of the transom above the front door. He could see 
a blue patch of sky, across which now and then a 
grey-white cloud floated. In those floating clouds 
Mr. Stagg began to read a future which had little 
to do with the dull prospect of the hardware store 
itself. 

“Look up!” 

The thought came to him while his countenance 
was a-smile. His reverie had surely inspired a pleas- 
anter feeling within and a happier expression with- 
out. Carolyn May’s reiterated phrase rather startled 
Joseph Stagg. 

“ Why, the child’s right,” he murmured. “ It’s 
looking up makes a man dream of happiness. But — 
it’s only a dream, I reckon. Only a dream.” 

His immediate thoughts did not fall into the old 
groove, however. Not at once. When he went 
home to supper that evening he boldly stared at the 
Parlow house, on the watch for something. There 
were lights in the kitchen and the dining-room. And 
was that a figure moving cautiously behind the lace 
curtains at the front-room window? 


CHAPTER XVIII 


SOMETHING CAROLYN MAY WISHES TO KNOW 

C AROLYN MAY’S heart was filled with 
trouble. She had, ere this, proved herself 
to be a deeply thoughtful child, and the 
grown people about her did not suspect how much 
she was disturbed by a new subject of thought. 

This was the result of her first talk with the old 
sailor. Not from him, nor from anybody else, did 
Carolyn May get any direct information that the 
sailor had been aboard the Dunraven on her fatal 
voyage. But his story awoke in the child’s breast 
doubts and longings, uncertainties and desires that 
had lain dormant for many weeks. 

“ I do wish, Princey,” she told her mongrel friend, 
her single really close confidant, “ that my papa and 
mamma were like the folks buried there behind the 
church,” and she sighed. 

“ I’d know just where they were, then. That 
part of ’em that’s dead, I mean. But now we don’t 
know much about it, do we ? 

“ Being lost at sea is such a dreadful unsatisfac- 
tory way of having your folks dead.” 

Uncle Joe and Aunty Rose loved her and were 
188 


CAROLYN MAY WISHES TO KNOW 189 

kind to her. But that feeling of “ emptiness ” that 
had at first so troubled Carolyn May was returning. 
Kind as her new friends here at The Corners and at 
Sunrise Cove were, there was something lacking in 
the little girl’s life. 

Nothing could make up to her for the jolly com- 
panionship of her father. Even while his health 
was declining, he had made all about him happier 
by his own cheerful spirit. And the little girl longed, 
more and more, for her mother. She had followed 
her father’s axiom to “ look up ” and had bene- 
fited by it; but, at last, her loneliness and homesick- 
ness had become, it seemed, too great to endure. 

She began to droop. Keen-eyed Aunty Rose dis- 
covered this physical change very quickly. 

“ She’s just like a droopy chicken,” declared the 
good woman, “ and, goodness knows, I have seen 
enough of them.” 

So, as a stimulant and a preventive of “ droopi- 
ness,” Aunty Rose prescribed boneset tea, “ plenty 
of it.” Now, she loved Carolyn May very much, 
even if she could not bring herself to the point of 
showing her affection before others; but boneset tea 
is an awful dose! 

Carolyn May took the prescribed quantity and 
shook all over. She could not bear the taste of 
bitter things, and this boneset, or thoroughwort, had 
the very bitterest taste she had ever encountered. 

“ Do — do you think it’s good for me, Aunty 
Rose? ” she asked quaveringly. 


190 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

“ It certainly is, Carolyn May.” 

“ Well — but,” returned the little girl, “ wouldn’t 
something else do me good — only, maybe, slower — 
that wasn’t so awfully bitter? I — I’m afraid I’ll 
never learn to like this boneset tea — not really, 
Aunty Rose.” 

“ We are not supposed to like medicine,” de- 
clared Aunty Rose, being a confirmed allopath. 

“ Oh, aren’t we? ” the little girl cried. “ I ’mem- 
ber being sick once — at home, with my mamma and 
papa — and a doctor came. A real nice doctor, with 
eyeglasses. And he gave me cunning little pills of 
different colours. I didn’t mind taking them; they 
were like candy.” 

Aunty Rose shook her head decidedly and nega- 
tively. 

“ I do not believe in such remedies,” she said. 
“ Medicine is like punishment — unless it hurts, of 
what use is it? ” 

Therefore three times a day Carolyn May was 
dosed with boneset tea. How long the child’s 
stomach would have endured under this treatment 
will never be known. Carolyn May got no better, 
that was sure; but one day something happened. 

Winter had moved on in its usual frosty and snowy 
way. Carolyn May had kept up all her interests — 
after a fashion. She went to school, and she visited 
Miss Amanda, and her sailor man held her attention. 
But they were just surface interests. “ Inside ” she 
was all sick, and sorry, and prone to tears; and it 


CAROLYN MAY WISHES TO KNOW 19 1 

was not altogether the boneset tea that made her 
feel so unsettled, either. 

Benjamin Hardy had gone to Adams’ camp to 
work. It seemed he could use a peevy, or canthook, 
pretty well, having done something besides sailing 
in his day. Tim, the hackman, worked at logging in 
the winter months, too. He usually went past the 
Stagg place with a team four times each day. 

There was something Carolyn May wished to ask 
Benjamin Hardy, but she did not want anybody else 
to know what it was — not even Uncle Joe or Aunty 
Rose. Miss Amanda had gone across town to stay 
with a lady who was ill, so the little girl could not 
take her into her confidence, had she so wished. 

Anyway, it was the seaman Carolyn May wished 
to talk with, and she laid her plans accordingly. 
Once in the fall and before the snow came she had 
ridden as far as Adams’ camp with Mr. Parlow. He 
had gone there for some hickory wood. 

But, now, to ride on the empty sled going in and 
on top of the load of logs coming out of the forest, 
Carolyn May felt sure, would be much more excit- 
ing. She mentioned her desire to Uncle Joe on a 
Friday evening. 

“ Well, now, if it’s pleasant, I don’t see anything 
to forbid. Do you, Aunty Rose?” Mr. Stagg 
returned. 

“ I presume Tim will take the best of care of her,” 
the woman said. “ Maybe, getting out more in the 
air will make her look less peaked, Joseph Stagg.” 


1 92 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

The hardware dealer stared at his little niece with 
knitted brow. 

“ Does she look peaked, Aunty Rose? ” he asked 
anxiously. 

“ She doesn’t look as robust as I could wish.” 

“ Say! she isn’t sick, is she? You don’t feel bad, 
do you, Car’lyn May?” 

“ Oh, no, Uncle Joe,” the child hastened to say, 
remembering vividly the boneset tea. “ I’m quite 
sure I’m not ill.” 

The excitement of preparing to go to the camp 
the next morning brought the roses into Carolyn 
May’s cheeks and made her eyes sparkle. When 
Tim, the hackman, went into town with his first 
load he was forewarned by Aunty Rose that he 
would have company going back. 

“Pitcher of George Washington!” exclaimed 
Tim. “ The boys will near ’bout take a holiday. 
You tell her to put on her red hood and a blue hair- 
ribbon, and she’ll be as purty as a posy to go 
a-visiting.” 

“ Never mind what she wears, Timothy,” said 
Aunty Rose sternly. “ You see that she gets back 
here safely.” 

“ Surest thing you know, Miz Kennedy,” agreed 
the man. 

Carolyn May — and, of course, Prince — were 
ready when Tim came back with the empty sled, or 
“ jumper,” as he called it. He had thrown a number 
of sacks upon it, on which she might sit, and they 


CAROLYN MAY WISHES TO KNOW 193 

started off briskly. The bells on the horses’ collars 
jingled a merry tune. 

Prince bounded about the sled in wild delight, 
barking madly. Such an adventure as this was quite 
to his liking. 

“ I vow! ” croaked Timothy, “ I’ve often thought 
I’d like to be a dog — some men’s dog, I mean. They 
ain’t got nothin’ to trouble ’em — ’nless it’s a few 
fleas. And maybe they ain’t such a heavy cross and 
burden. They give the dog good healthy exercise 
a-scratchin’ of ’em. 

u Now, look at that Prince critter, will you? He’s 
all of a broad grin — happy as a clam at high water. 
He don’t hafter worry about rent, or clo’es, or how 
to meet the next payment on the pianner. He sure 
is in an easy state of mind.” 

“ Yes,” Carolyn May agreed, “ I think Prince is 
a very cheerful dog. Why, he almost laughs some- 
times ! ” 

“ I reckon he does,” agreed Tim. “ Only, dumb 
critters don’t never really laff.” 

“ Oh, yes, they do ! ” cried Carolyn May, eager 
to give information when she could. “ Anyhow, 
some animals do.” 

“Pitcher of George Washington!” ejaculated 
the man. “ What animals, I’d be proud ter know? ” 

“ Why, there were some of them at the Zoo. 
That’s ’way up in the Bronx, you know.” 

“ What’s the Brow-n-x? ” interrupted Tim as they 
jounced along. 


i 9 4 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

“ Why — why, it’s a park. Bigger’n Central Park, 
you know — oh! ever so much bigger. And they 
have lots of animals — wild animals.” 

“ Not loose? ” cried her listener. 

“ Oh, no. That is, not all of them. Some are in 
big fields, or yards; but there are fences up.” 

“ Yep, I sh’d hope so,” returned Tim. “ And, if 
I was goin’ to visit ’em, I sh’d want them fences 
to be horse high, hog tight, and bull strong. I 
sure would ! ” 

“ Well, but the laughing hyenas are in cages,” ex- 
plained Carolyn May. 

“ Do tell ! An’ do they laff ? They must be good- 
natured critters, after all, them — what d’ye call 
’em — laffin’ hannahs? ” 

“ Hy-^-nas,” repeated Carolyn May carefully. 
“ They look something like dogs — only they aren’t. 
And they look something like zebras — only they 
aren’t. And when they do laugh, Mr. Tim, it just 
makes the cold chills run up and down your back. 
Oh, they are dreadful ugly beasts! So laughing 
don’t always make things good-natured, does it? ” 

“Pitcher of George Washington!” murmured 
Tim, the hackman, staring at her wide-eyed. “ What 
a ’magination that young one’s got! ” 

But the little girl did not hear this comment, else 
she would have been unhappy. 

They jogged along very comfortably, reaching 
the camp a little before noon. Adams’ camp was 
the largest lumber camp near Sunrise Cove; but it 


CAROLYN MAY WISHES TO KNOW 195 

was a raw-looking place — nothing but a clump of 
sheet-iron sheds and log huts. 

The snow on the roofs, and the fact that the drifts 
hid many unsightly things, made the place seem less 
crude than it really was. Still, Carolyn May was 
doubtful as to whether or not she would like to live 
there. 

There was but one woman in the camp, Judy 
Mason. She lived in one of the log huts with her 
husband. He was a sawyer, and Judy did the men’s 
washing. 

Benjamin Hardy was pleased, indeed, to see his 
little friend again. She sought him out as soon as 
the engineer blew the whistle for the noon rest, and 
they went into the bunk-house together, where more 
than forty men gathered around the long table for 
dinner. 

There was no tablecloth, and the food was served 
in basins, and they ate off tin pie plates, and drank 
out of tin mugs. But the men were a jolly crowd, 
and the dinner hour was enlivened by jokes and good- 
natured foolery. 

Carolyn May appreciated their attempts to amuse 
her, but she clung close to Benjamin, for she had a 
question in her mind that only he, she thought, could 
answer. 

“ You come with me, please,” she whispered to 
the old seaman after dinner. “ You can smoke. 
You haven’t got to go back to work yet, and Tim is 
only just loading his sled. So we can talk.” 


i 9 6 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

“ Aye, aye, little miss. What’ll we talk about? ” 
queried Benjamin cautiously, for he remembered that 
he was to be very circumspect in his conversation 
with her. 

“ I want you to tell me something, Benjamin,” 
she said. 

“ Sail ahead, matey,” he responded with apparent 
heartiness, filling his pipe meanwhile. 

“ Why, Benjamin — you must know, you know, for 
you’ve been to sea so much — Benjamin, I want to 
know if it hurts much to be drownd-ed? ” 

“ Hurts much? ” gasped the old seaman. 

“ Yes, sir. Do people that get drownd-ed feel 
much pain? Is it a sufferin’ way to die? I want to 
know, Benjamin, ’cause my papa and mamma died 
that way,” continued the child, choking a little. “ It 
does seem as though I’d just got to know.” 

“ Aye, aye,” muttered the man. “ I see. An’ I 
kin tell ye, Car’lyn May, as clos’t as anybody kin. 
I’ve been so near drownin’ myself that they thought 
I was dead when I was hauled inboard. 

“ That was when I sailed in the old Paducah, a 
cotton boat, from N’Orleans to Liverpool. That 
was long ’fore I got to runnin’ on the Cross and 
Crescent Line boats, ’cause steamships is easier to 
work on than sailin’ vessels. 

“ Well, now, listen. We used to carry almighty 
cargoes — yes’m. Decks loaded till we could scarce 
handle sail. She was down to the mark, and then 
some. An’ if it come on to blow, we was all in 



Do people that get drownd-ed 
feel much pain?" 







































































































































CAROLYN MAY WISHES TO KNOW 197 

danger of our lives. Owners cared more for freight 
money than they did for the lives of her crew.” 

“ Oh ! How very wicked ! ” exclaimed Carolyn 
May, her mind led somewhat away from the grue- 
some question she had propounded to Benjamin. 

“ ’Twas that, indeed,” agreed the sailor, puffing 
on his pipe. “ The old Paducah sometimes rolled 
through the wash like she was top-heavy. And if 
the swell got too strong for her we had to jettison 
the top tiers of cotton bales — pitch ’em overboard, 
you see.” 

“ Oh!” 

u An’ one day, when the old craft was rollin’ till 
her yards nigh touched the sea, I was loosin’ the 
upper tier of bales and slidin’ ’em overboard, when 
over / went with one of ’em.” 

“ Oh, Benjamin ! Never!” 

“ Aye, aye, matey. That’s what I done,” said the 
old man, sucking away on his pipe. “ There was 
me in the sea, hangin’ on to a balehook that was stuck 
in the cotton. The old Paducah rushed by me, it 
seemed, like an express train past a cripple.” 

“ But you weren’t drownd-ed ! ” exclaimed Caro- 
lyn May. 

“ No-o. But I was near it — mighty near it. They 
seen me go, an’ I heard the cry, ‘ Man overboard! ’ 
when I come up after my first plunge. I knowed 
they’d wear ship and send a boat after me. So, first 
off, I thought I’d hang to the balehook and be all 
right. 


i 9 8 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

“ But I got ’nough o’ that soon — yes’m ! The 
waves was monster tall. One seized me and the bale 
o’ cotton, an’ we shot right up to the crest of it. 
Then I found myself failin’ down on ’tother side, 
an’ that cotton bale tumblin’ after me. I had to get 
out o’ the way of that bale in a hurry, or it might 
have swiped me a blow that I’d never come up from. 
An’ I wasn’t much of a swimmer.” 

The little girl’s eyes were round with interest and 
her lips were parted. She drank in every word the 
old sailor uttered. 

“ Well, there I was, little miss,” he said, still puff- 
ing on his pipe. “ There was sev’ral of them cotton 
bales had been slid overboard about the same time, 
an’ I found myself a-dodgin’ of ’em. Fust one, then 
another, come after me — it seemed as if they was 
determined to git me. 

“ When I warn’t lookin’ for it, the end of one 
bale clumped me right in the back. I went down 
that time, I thought, for keeps. 

“ Down and down I went, till all I could see above 
me was green water streaked with white. I couldn’t 
git my breath; but otherwise, mind ye, I wasn’t in 
much trouble. I jest floated there, and I didn’t much 
care to come up. I didn’t care for anything. 

“ Lots o’ things I’d done, good an’ bad, chased 
through my head,” went on Benjamin. “ I remem- 
bered folks I hadn’t thought of for years. My 
mother and father come to me — jest as plain ! An’ 
them dead for a long time.” 


CAROLYN MAY WISHES TO KNOW 199 

“Oh! did you see ghosts ?” Carolyn May ex- 
claimed. 

“ Not to frighten me,” the sailor assured her. 
“ It was jest as though I was sittin’ in a rockin’-chair, 
half asleep, an’ these dreams come to me. I warn’t 
in any pain. It was a lot worse when the boys 
reached me in the boat an’ hauled me inboard. 

“ Then,” said the old man with vigour, “ it cost 
me something. Cornin’ back from drowning is a 
whole lot worse than bein’ drowned. You take it 
from me.” 

“ Well,” sighed Carolyn May, “ I’m glad to know 
that. It’s bothered me a good deal. If my mamma 
and papa had to be dead, maybe that was the nicest 
way for them to go. 

“ Only — only,” confessed the little girl, u I’d feel 
so much better if they’d been brought back and we 
could have buried them behind the church, like 
Aunty Rose’s babies and her spouse. And — and I’d 
feel better yet if they weren’t dead at all ! ” 


CHAPTER XIX 


A GOOD DEAL OF EXCITEMENT 

I 

T IM, the hackman, had an accident to his load 
before he was ready to start from the camp 
after dinner. He was hauling maple and 
other hardwood logs to the turning mill at Sunrise 
Cove; and, the team he worked being a sturdy pair 
of animals, he piled a heavy cargo on the jumper. 
Just as he called to Carolyn May to hop upon the 
load for the ride home the horses started. 

“ Hey, you ! ” sang out the hack driver. “ What 
d’ye think you’re doin’? Hey, there! Whoa! ” 
Unguided, the horses brought the sled with a 
vicious crash against a snow-covered stump. The 
load rocked, one runner hoisted into the air, and the 
load toppled over completely. The log-chain could 
not stand such a strain, and right there and then 
occurred a notable overturn. 

“ Pitcher of George Washington! ” bawled Tim. 
“ Now look what you went and done ! ” 

He declaimed this against the spirited team. The 
whole camp yelled its delight. 

“ You ain’t fit to drive anything more lively than 
that old rackabones you tackle to your hack in sum- 


200 


A GOOD DEAL OF EXCITEMENT 201 


mer, Tim,” declared the boss of the camp. “ You 
don’t know nothing about managing a real horse.” 

“ Hi, Timmy! ” called another, “ want somebody 
to hold their heads while ye build up that load 
again? ” 

But the hackman accepted this good-naturedly. 
He was delayed quite an hour, however, in starting 
from the camp with Carolyn May; and an hour out 
of a winter’s afternoon is a good deal, for it becomes 
dark early at that time of year. 

When Tim had his load perfectly secure again he 
tossed the sacks on the logs, and then lifted Carolyn 
May to the top. Prince whined and barked at her. 
Her eminence was too great for him to gain. 

“ Never mind, Princey,” she called to him. 
“ You’d rather run, you know you would. We’re 
going home now.” 

The men in sight swung their caps and called their 
good-byes after her. Judy Mason flapped her apron 
from the cabin door. The sailor reached up to shake 
her mittened hand. This time the horses started 
properly, and, groaning, the heavily laden sled swung 
into the beaten track. 

The sun was already down; a silver paring of 
moon hung above the tree tops, growing brighter 
each minute as the daylight faded. The stars would 
soon begin to sparkle in the heavens. The track led 
through the thick wood, which quickly hid the camp 
and all its busy scene from view. 

Timothy had climbed to the top of the load, too, 


202 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


and settled himself comfortably for the ride. He 
proceeded to fill and light his pipe. 

“ Aren’t you ever scared that there might be bears 
or something in the woods, Mr. Timothy? ” Carolyn 
May asked him, looking about in some trepidation. 
“ Of course, with Prince here, I know that no wild 
animal could steal upon us. But when you’re 
alone? ” 

Tim chuckled. “ Bears don’t pedestrianate around 
in winter — not as ever I heard on,” he said. 
“ They’ve got too much sense. Bears hole up when 
the snow flies. An’, b’sides, they’re ain’t no bears. 
All done away with long ago.” 

“ Are you sure? ” Carolyn May asked anxiously. 

“ Sure as shootin’. Pitcher of George Washing- 
ton ! think I’d go traipsin’ through these woods with- 
out no gun,” Tim asked, grinning at her, “ if there 
was anything fiercer’n a polecat to be met up with? 
An’, come to think of it, they hole up in winter, too. 
Gid-ap, there, ye lazybones ! ” 

The horses nodded their heads, as though agree- 
ing with all he had said; the bells tinkled and the 
sled runners crunched over the snow. Prince did 
not feel so much like “ cavorting,” as Tim called it, 
and followed the sled at a sober gait. The woods 
were very silent. Not a bird winged its way across 
their path, and all the rabbits seemed to have hidden 
themselves. The little girl began to nod and her 
eyes blinked. 

Suddenly, on the branch of a tree that overhung 


A GOOD DEAL OF EXCITEMENT 203 

the road they were following, Carolyn May saw a 
grey, furry body hugging close to the limb. 

“Oh! what’s that?” she gasped, scarcely loud 
enough for Tim to hear. 

At one end of the grey body a round, catlike head 
was thrust out over the branch — the eyes yellow and 
glaring, the pointed ears erect. 

“ Oh, what a big cat ! ” Carolyn May cried, 
louder now. “ See there ! ” 

Tim, the hackman, turned in startled haste. At 
her cry the animal on the limb gathered its legs 
under it, arched its back, and uttered a startling 
screech. 

“ Oh, dear me ! ” murmured Carolyn May, u he’s 
seen Prince.” 

This was probably the case, for the creature re- 
peated its yowl, just like an enraged tomcat, only 
much louder than even old Jimmy could squall. Tim 
yelled to the horses and bent forward to lash them 
with the slack of the reins. 

They leaped ahead, but not soon enough to carry 
the loaded sled out from under the limb. Prince, 
who had uttered a challenging growl, danced around 
the trunk of the tree. The huge cat leaped ! 

“ Oh, my! Oh, my! ” shrieked Carolyn May. 

She did not realise the full danger of the situation. 
A mad lynx is no pleasant beast to meet; and this 
one, when it leaped, landed upon the rear of the load 
of logs. 

“Pitcher of George Washington!” yelled Tim, 


204 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

the hackman. “ We’re boarded by pirates, sure 
enough ! ” 

The squalling, clawing brute tried to draw itself 
up on the logs. The horses were running now, and 
the jolting of the sled made the beast’s hold pre- 
carious. Besides, just as the cat landed, Prince 
darted around to the rear of the sled. With a growl 
of rage, the big mongrel flung himself upward and 
managed to seize the lynx just at the root of its 
stubby tail. 

Then there was a squalling time, indeed! The 
cat, clawing and spitting, sought to retain its hold 
on the logs, and yet strike at its adversary. 

Prince had claws of his own, and he was scratch- 
ing at the logs to gain a foothold; but his claws were 
not like the sabre-sharp nails of the lynx. A single 
thrust of a spread paw of the cat would have raked 
poor Prince’s hide to shreds. 

With the horses galloping and the lynx jouncing, 
half on and half off the logs, there was little like- 
lihood of the wildcat’s turning on its enemy. There 
was enough bull in Prince to clamp his jaws in 
an unbreakable hold, now that he had gripped the 
lynx. 

Carolyn May was thoroughly frightened. She 
had to cling with both hands to save herself from 
being flung from the sled. Tim began to realise, at 
length, that he must do something besides yell at the 
horses. 

“Pitcher of George Washington!” he gurgled. 


A GOOD DEAL OF EXCITEMENT 205 

“ That blamed wood-pussy’s gotter git off this load! 
I didn’t come out here to give it a ride, I vum ! ” 

He hung the reins on one of the sled stakes, seized 
a hickory club as thick as his forearm, and crept 
back towards the angry animal. 

The dog’s weight hanging to its tail was giving 
the lynx about all it could think of or take care of; 
yet it spat at Tim and struck at him with one paw. 

“Would ye, ye nasty beast?” cried Tim, rising 
to his feet. “Scat!” 

He struck at the head of the lynx with his club. 
That blow certainly would have done some execution 
had it landed where Tim intended it to land — on the 
creature’s head. But, instead, the end of the club 
came down with great force on a log. 

The blow had a tremendous effect, but not in the 
way Tim expected. The jar of the stroke almost 
paralysed the man’s arm. He uttered a groan and 
staggered back. The sled runner went over a hum- 
mock just then on one side of the trail, while the 
runner on the other side sank into a rut. Like a diver 
from a springboard, Tim went head first, and back- 
ward, into a snowbank beside the road. 

“ Pitcher of George — ” The rest of his favourite 
ejaculation was smothered by the snow, into which 
he plunged so deeply that only his felt boots, kicking 
heavenward, were to be seen. 

Meanwhile, the sled lumbered on, although the 
reckless pace of the horses was reduced. 

The peril to the little girl on the pile of logs in- 


20 6 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


creased, however, as the pace of the horses de- 
creased. She was quite helpless, save that she man- 
aged to retain her grasp on the log-chain. But there 
was nobody to protect her now from the furious 
beast that was making its best endeavour to crawl to 
the top of the logs. 

If the lynx shook the mongrel loose it would attain 
its desire. Assured of a footing on the logs, there 
was no knowing what it might do in its rage. Caro- 
lyn May was in the gravest peril. 

The child was too excited to cry out again. She 
clung with her mittened hands to the chain and gazed 
back at the snarling, spitting lynx with wide-open, 
terrified eyes. 

Both beasts were scratching and tearing at the logs 
to obtain a foothold; the lynx was energetically try- 
ing to drag itself and the dog farther up on the logs, 
while Prince was striving to pull down his prey. 

The dog seemed to know his little mistress was in 
danger. He was not going to let go. It was the lynx 
that finally gave in. 

Squalling and clawing, its nails stripping long 
splinters from the maple logs, the cat fell back. 
When the two animals struck the hard snow, Prince 
was shaken off. 

But the mongrel was brave. He dived in again 
and seized the lynx, this time by the throat. The cat 
got in a stroke with its hind paws. The lacerations 
along Prince’s side were deep and painful, but he 
held to his prey. 


A GOOD DEAL OF EXCITEMENT 207 

Meantime, the horses plunged on, dragging the 
loaded sled over the rough road at a pace which still 
imperiled the little girl. Each moment she might be 
shaken from her hold and flung from the logs into 
the roadway. 

Should she fall, it was not likely that she would 
escape harm, as had Tim, the hackman. He had 
now struggled out of the drift unhurt, and came 
staggering along the track, shouting in futile fashion 
for his team to stop. 

Oddly enough, he had clung to the club all this 
time, and, reaching the bloody patch of snow where 
the dog and the lynx struggled, he set upon the big 
cat and beat it so about the head that it was very 
quickly dead. 

“ Come on ! Come on ! ” Tim shouted to the dog. 
“ You ain’t got to stay here and growl at that critter 
no more. Ketch them horses!” 

Prince actually seemed to know what Tim meant. 
Sore and bleeding as he was, the dog did not halt 
even to lick his wounds. He dashed ahead, barking, 
and quickly overtook the sled. The horses were not 
going very fast now, but they were not minded to 
halt, for all of Tim’s shouting. 

Prince sprang at the nigh horse and seized its 
bridle rein. The team swerved out of the path, 
Prince hanging on and growling. 

The sled struck an obstruction and the team 
stopped. 

“ Pitcher of George Washington! if that ain’t a 


208 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


smart dog, I never see one,” gasped Tim, panting 
and blowing. “ Air ye hurt, Car’lyn May? ” 

“ I — I guess not, Mr. Timothy,” answered the 
little girl. 

“ I never seen the beat of this in all my born days,” 
declared the man. “ And that dog ” 

“ Prince is just the very best dog! ” Carolyn May 
affirmed. “ Oh, Mr. Timothy, take me down, quick ! 
Poor Princey is all bloody; he must be hurt! ” 

“ He is hurt some. That lynx raked him once, I 
’low,” returned Tim. “ But he’ll be all right when 
ye git him home and put something on the scratches. 
My goodness ! what an exciting time ! I never did 
see the beat of it ! ” 

This statement Tim continued to repeat all the 
way to The Corners. He set Carolyn May back on 
the load again and hoisted Prince up with her, but 
he walked himself beside the team. 

“ Ain’t goin’ to take no more risks. Pitcher of 
George Washington! I guess not. Dunno what 
your Uncle Joe and Aunty Rose’ll say to me.” 

The story lost nothing in the telling when Tim, the 
hackman, and Carolyn May both related it at the 
Stagg homestead. And poor Prince’s wounds spoke 
louder than words. 

“ Ain’t been a wildcat in this county afore in five 
year,” declared Tim. “ And Pm sartain sure there 
never was one here more savage.” 

When Uncle Joe saw Tim in the village and heard 
about the adventure he hastened home to make sure 


A GOOD DEAL OF EXCITEMENT 209 

that his little niece had received no injury. Prince 
was enthroned on an old quilt beside the range. 

Aunty Rose had herself washed his wounds — 
though she admitted being afraid of his savage-look- 
ing teeth — and had put some healing balsam on 
them. The dog, evidently enjoying his role of in- 
valid, looked up at Mr. Stagg and slapped his tail 
on the floor. 

“ If it hadn’t been for that dumb creature, Joseph 
Stagg,” said Aunty Rose, still quite shaken over the 
incident, “ we wouldn’t maybe have our little girl 
unhurt. If Timothy tells the truth ” 

“ I guess he tells the truth, all right,” snorted Mr. 
Stagg. “ He don’t know enough to tell anything but 
truth. Howsomever, if he’d stopped his team, he 
could have licked that old lynx to a fare-ye-well. I 
wouldn’t trust Hannah’s Car’lyn with him again — 
not even to go to church.” 

“ Why, Uncle Joe,” said Carolyn May, “ you 
can’t really blame Mr. Timothy for being scared at 
that awful wildcat. I was scared myself.” 


CHAPTER XX 


THE SPRING FRESHET 

S INCE Joseph Stagg had listened to the ram- 
bling tale of the sailor regarding the sinking 
of the Dunraven, he had borne the fate of his 
sister and her husband much in mind. 

He had come no nearer to deciding what to do 
with the apartment in New York and its furnishings. 
Carolyn May had prattled so much about her home 
that Mr. Stagg felt as though he knew each room 
and each piece of furniture. And, should he go 
down to New York and make arrangements to have 
his sister’s possessions taken to an auction room, he 
would feel on entering the flat as though the ghosts 
of Carolyn May’s parents would meet him there. 

Mr. Price had written him twice about the place. 
The second time he had found a tenant willing to sub- 
let the furnished apartment. It would have made a 
little income for Carolyn May, but Mr. Stagg could 
not bring himself to sign the lease. The lawyer had 
not written since. 

After listening to Benjamin Hardy’s story, the 
hardware dealer felt less inclined than before to 
close up the affairs of Carolyn May’s small “ estate.” 


210 


THE SPRING FRESHET 


21 1 


Not that he for one moment believed that there was 
a possibility of Hannah and her husband being alive. 
Five months had passed. In these days of wireless 
telegraph and fast sea traffic such a thing could not 
be possible. The imagination of the practical hard- 
ware merchant could not visualise it. 

Had the purser’s boat, in which the old sailor de- 
clared the Camerons were, been picked up by one 
of the Turkish ships, as the other refugees from the 
Dunraven had been rescued by the French vessel, 
surely news of the fact would long since have reached 
the papers, even had circumstances kept Mr. and 
Mrs. Cameron from returning home. 

The Mediterranean is not the South Seas. A 
steam vessel could reach New York from the spot 
where the Dunraven had sunk in a week. 

No, Mr. Stagg held no shred of belief that 
Hannah and her husband were not drowned. 

Carolyn May did not speak of the tragedy; yet it 
was continually in the child’s mind. Her conversa- 
tion with the sailor regarding the sufferings of 
drowning people only touched a single phase of the 
little girl’s trouble. 

She was glad to be assured that her parents had 
not lingered in agony when they met their fate. She 
accepted the sailor’s statement regarding drowning 
quite at its par value. Nevertheless, neither this 
interview with Benjamin Hardy at the lumber camp 
nor Aunty Rose’s copious doses of boneset tea 
cheered the little girl. The excitement of the adven- 


2i2 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


ture with the lynx lasted only a few hours. Then 
the cloud returned to Carolyn May’s countenance 
and she drooped once more. 

Miss Minnie noticed it. By this time the sharp- 
eyed young teacher looked through her spectacles 
very kindly at the little girl. 

“ What is the trouble with you, Carolyn May? ” 
the teacher asked on one occasion. “ You used to 
be the happiest little girl in The Corners school; and 
you were brightening up everybody else, too. I 
don’t like to see you so glum and thoughtful. It 
isn’t like you. What about your ‘ look up * motto, 
my dear? Have you forgotten it? ” 

“ I haven’t forgotten that — oh, no, Miss Minnie. 
I couldn’t forget that ! ” the child replied. “ I spect 
my papa would be ’shamed of me for losing heart so. 
But, oh, Miss Minnie ! I do get such an empty feel- 
ing now when I think of my papa and mamma. And 
I think of them ’most all the time. It just does seem 
as though they were going farther and farther away 
from me ev’ry day! ” 

Miss Minnie took the child in her arms and kissed 
her. 

“ Faithful little soul!” she murmured. “Time 
will never heal heart wounds for her.” 

Miss Amanda understood Carolyn May, too. 
When the child went to the Parlow house she found 
sympathy and comfort in abundance. 

Not that Aunty Rose and Uncle Joe were not sym- 
pathetic; but they did not wholly understand the 


THE SPRING FRESHET 


213 

child’s nature- As the winter passed and Carolyn 
May grew more and more quiet, the hardware dealer 
and the woman who k.ept house for him decided that 
there was nothing the matter with Carolyn May save 
the natural changes incident to her growing up. For, 
physically, she was growing fast. As Aunty Rose 
said to Mr. Stagg, she was “ stretching right out of 
her clothes.” 

But Carolyn May did not always keep out of mis- 
chief, for she was a very human little girl, after all 
was said and done. Especially was she prone to 
escapades when she was in the company of Freda 
Payne, her black-eyed school chum. 

Trouble seemed to gravitate towards Freda. Not 
that she was intentionally naughty, but she was too 
active and too full of curiosity to lead a very placid 
existence. Wherever Freda was the storm clouds of 
trouble soon gathered. 

Carolyn May and Freda were playing one Satur- 
day afternoon in the long shed that connected the 
blacksmith shop with Mr. Lardner’s house, and 
Amos Bartlett was with them. 

Carolyn May did not often play with little boys. 
She did not much approve of them. They often 
played roughly and it must be confessed that their 
hands almost always were grubby. But she rather 
pitied Amos Bartlett because he had been endowed 
with a nose so generous that the other children 
laughed at him and called him “ Nosey.” He 
snuffled, and he talked nasally, which made Carolyn 


214 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


May shudder sometimes, but she was brave about it 
when in Amos’ company. 

The three were playing in Mr. Hiram Lardner’s 
shed, which was half storeroom and half workshop. 
Back in a corner the inquisitive Freda found a great 
cask filled with something very yellow and foamy 
and delicious to look at. 

“ Oh, molasses, I do believe ! ” exclaimed Freda 
eagerly. “ Don’t you s’pose it’s molasses, Car’lyn 
May? I just love molasses! ” 

Carolyn May was fond of syrup, too; and this 
barrelful certainly looked like the kind Aunty 
Rose sometimes put on the table for the griddle 
cakes. The little girl liked it better than she did 
maple syrup. 

“ I believe it is molasses,” she agreed. 

“ Here’s a tin cup to drink it with,” put in Amos. 

“ O-oh ! Would you dare taste it, Car’lyn May? ” 
cried Freda. 

“ No. I’d rather not. Besides, it isn’t ours,” 
Carolyn May returned virtuously. 

“ But there’s so much of it,” urged Freda. “ I’m 
sure Mr. Lardner wouldn’t care — nor Mrs. Lardner, 
either.” 

“ But — but maybe it isn’t molasses,” Carolyn May 
suggested. 

“ I bet it is m’lasses,” declared Amos with a long- 
ing look. 

“ You try it, Amos,” ordered Freda, handing him 
the cup. 


THE SPRING FRESHET 


215 


“ Yes,” said Carolyn May coolly. “ You’re a boy, 
and boys don’t mind messing into things. Just taste 
it, Amos.” 

“ Go on, Amos,” added Freda. “ I dare you. I 
double-double dare you ! ” 

Of course, Amos, boylike, could not take a dare, 
so he dipped the tin cup into the yellow, foamy mass 
and took a good big swallow. Then the trouble 
began. 

He dropped the cup into the barrel, where it 
immediately disappeared from sight, while Amos 
hopped about, sputtering, coughing, crying, and gen- 
erally acting like a boy distracted. 

“Oh, I’m pizened! I’m pizened!” he bawled. 
“ And you girls done it ! I’m — I’m goin’ to tell my 
mother ! ” 

His shrieks brought Mrs. Lardner from her 
kitchen. 

“What under the sun are you children up to?” 
she demanded. “Amos Bartlett, behave yourself! 
What is it?” 

Amos could not tell her. All he could shriek was 
that he was “ pizened.” 

He burst out of the shed, ran through the shop, 
and so home to his mother. Carolyn May was too 
frightened to speak, but Freda said shakingly: 

“ We only got him to taste the molasses.” 

“What molasses?” demanded the blacksmith’s 
wife, startled. 

“ Why — why — that ” said Freda, pointing. 


21 6 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


“ My mercy me ! ” gasped the woman. “ That 
soft soap that Hiram just made for me? I don’t 
know but the boy is poisoned.” 

Mrs. Lardner rushed after Amos, to see if she 
could help his mother. Carolyn May and Freda 
crept quietly home, two frightened little girls. 

But Amos was not poisoned. The doctor brought 
him around all right. Freda suffered an old-fash- 
ioned spanking for her part in the performance; but 
Aunty Rose, who did not believe in corporal punish- 
ment, did not at first know what to do to Carolyn 
May. 

“ She should be punished, Joseph Stagg,” the 
housekeeper said to the hardware dealer. “ I’ve put 
her to bed early ” 

“Not without her supper?” he asked in alarm, 
dropping his own knife and fork. 

“ No-o,” she admitted. “ I couldn’t do that.” 

Mr. Stagg chuckled. “ I reckon children are 
children,” he observed. u I don’t know as Hannah’s 
Car’lyn is any different from the rest.” 

“ I know one thing, Joseph Stagg,” said Aunty 
Rose severely. “ If you ever have children of your 
own they will be utterly spoiled.” 

But Mr. Stagg still seemed amused. 

“ If you had anything to do with ’em, I’d have 
plenty of help in spoiling ’em, Aunty Rose,” he 
declared. 

Carolyn May took the matter somewhat seriously. 
She tried to make it up to Amos Bartlett by lending 


THE SPRING FRESHET 


217 

him her sled, giving him candy when she had it, and 
otherwise petting him. 

“ For he might have been poisoned,” she stated; 
“ and then he’d be dead, and would never grow up 
to fit his nose.” 

Carolyn May’s acquaintance broadened constantly. 
She made friends wherever she went, and the wintry 
weather did not often keep her in the house. Uncle 
Joe would not hear of her going into the woods 
again, unless he was with her, but she could go where 
she pleased among the neighbours. 

At Sunrise Cove there were many people who 
loved Carolyn May Cameron. Her most faithful 
knight, however, was homely, optimistic Chetwood 
Gormley. Mr. Stagg declared that when Chet saw 
“ Hannah’s Car’lyn ” approaching he “ grinned so 
wide that he was like to swallow his own ears.” 

And they would have been a mouthful. Even 
Mrs. Gormley, who could see few faults in her son, 
declared that Chet “ wasn’t behind the door when 
ears were given out.” 

“ Chet’s got a generous nature,” the good woman 
said to Carolyn May one day when the latter was 
making the seamstress a little visit. “ It don’t take 
his ears to show that, though they do. He’d do any- 
thing for a friend. But I don’t know as he’s ’pred- 
ated as much as he’d oughter be,” sighed Mrs. 
Gormley. “ Mr. Stagg, even, don’t know Chet’s 
good parts.” 

“ Oh, yes, Mrs. Gormley, I think Uncle Joe knows 


2 1 8 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


all about Chet’s ears. He couldn’t hardly miss ’em,” 
the little girl hastened to observe. 

“ Humph ! I didn’t mean actual parts of his 
body,” Mrs. Gormley replied, eyeing the little girl 
over her spectacles. “ I mean character. He’s a 
fine boy, Car’lyn May.” 

“Oh! I think he is, too,” agreed the child. 
“ And I’m sure Uncle Joe ’predates him.” 

“ Well, I hope so,” sighed the seamstress. “ You 
can’t much tell just what Mr. Joe Stagg thinks of 
folks. There’s him and Mandy Parlow. Somebody 
was tellin’ me Mr. Stagg was seen cornin’ out o’ the 
Parlow house one day. But, shucks ! that ain’t so, of 
course?” and she looked narrowly at her little 
visitor. 

“ Oh, I wish he would make up with Miss 
Amanda,” sighed Carolyn May. “ She’s so nice.” 

“ And I guess he thought so, too — once. But you 
can’t tell, as I say. Mr. Joe Stagg is a man that 
never lets on what’s in his mind.” 

Just then in burst Chet, quite unexpectedly, for it 
was not yet mid-afternoon. 

“ Oh, dear me ! Mercy me ! ” gasped Mrs. Gorm- 
ley. “What is the matter, Chetwood? Mr. Stagg 
hain’t let you go, has he? ” 

“Let me go? Well, there, mother, I wish you 
warn’t always expectin’ trouble,” Chet said, though 
smiling widely. “ Why should Mr. Stagg discharge 
me? Why, I’m gettin’ more and more valuable to 
him ev’ry day — sure I am!” 


THE SPRING FRESHET 


219 


u He — he ain’t said nothin’ yet about — about a 
partnership, has he, Chetwood?” his mother whis- 
pered hoarsely. 

“ My goodness, maw — no ! You know that’ll take 
time. But it’s almost sure to come. I seen him out 
the other day, across the street, looking up at the 
sign. And I’ll bet I know what was in his mind, 
maw.” 

“ I hope so,” sighed the seamstress. “ But you 
ain’t told us how you come to be away from the store 
at this hour.” 

“ That’s ’cause of Car’lyn May,” responded Chet, 
smiling at the little girl. “ He let me off to take her 
slidin’. The ice ain’t goin’ to be safe in the cove for 
long now. Spring’s in the air a’ready. Both brooks 
are runnin’ full.” 

“ Oh, Chet! Can we go sliding? ” cried Carolyn 
May. “ I brought my sled! ” 

“ Sure. Your uncle says he knowed you wanted 
to go down on the ice. I’ll put on my skates and 
draw you. We’ll have such fun! ” 

Carolyn May was delighted. Although the sky 
was overcast and a storm threatening when they got 
down on the ice, neither the boy nor the little girl 
gave the weather a second thought. Nor had Mr. 
Stagg considered the weather when he had allowed 
Chet to leave the store that afternoon. He was glad 
to get Chet out of the way for an hour; for, if the 
truth be told, he sometimes found it difficult to make 
any use of young Gormley at all. 


220 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


“ I might as well lock up the store when I go home 
to dinner and supper,” Mr. Stagg sometimes ob- 
served to himself. “ If the critter sells anything, 
it’s usually at the wrong price. He wants to sell 
wire nails by the dozen and brass hinges by the 
pound. I dunno what I keep him for, unless it’s for 
the good of my soul. Chet Gormley does help a 
feller to cultivate patience ! ” 

Fortunately, for the peace of mind of Chet and 
his widowed mother, they did not suspect the hard- 
ware dealer of holding this opinion. Just now the 
boy was delighted to lend himself to Carolyn May’s 
pleasure. He strapped on his skates, and then set- 
tled the little girl firmly on her sled. She sat for- 
ward, and he lifted Prince up behind her, where 
the dog sat quite securely, with his forepaws over 
his mistress’ shoulders, his jaws agape, and his 
tongue hanging out like a moist, red necktie. 

“ He’s laughin’ — just as broad as he can laugh, 
Car’lyn May,” chuckled Chet. “ All ready, now? ” 
“ Oh, we’re all right, Chet,” the little girl cried 
gaily. 

The boy harnessed himself with the long tow- 
rope and skated away from the shore, dragging the 
sled after him at a brisk pace. Chet was a fine 
skater, and although the surface of the ice was 
rather spongy he had no difficulty in making good 
time towards the mouth of the cove. 

“ Oh, my! ” squealed Carolyn May, “ there isn’t 
anybody else on the ice.” 


THE SPRING FRESHET 221 

u We won’t run into nobody, then,” laughed the 
boy. 

There were schooners and barges and several 
steam craft tied up at the docks. These had been 
frozen in all winter. They would soon be free, and 
lake traffic would begin again. 

It was too misty outside the cove to see the open 
water; but it was there, and Chet knew it as well as 
anybody. He had no intention of taking any risks — 
especially with Carolyn May in his charge. 

The wind blew out of the cove, too. As they drew 
away from the shelter of the land they felt its 
strength. It was not a frosty wind. Indeed, the 
temperature was rising rapidly, and, as Chet had 
said, there was a hint of spring in the air. 

Naturally, neither the boy nor the little girl — and 
surely not the dog — looked back towards the land. 
Otherwise, they would have seen the snow flurry 
that swept down over the town and quickly hid it 
from the cove. 

Chet was skating his very swiftest. Carolyn May 
was screaming with delight. Prince barked joyfully. 
And, suddenly, in a startling fashion, they came to a 
fissure in the ice ! 

The boy darted to one side, heeled on his right 
skate, and stopped. He had jerked the sled aside, 
too, yelling to Carolyn May to “ hold fast! ” But 
Prince was flung from it, and scrambled over the ice, 
barking loudly. 

“Oh, dear me!” cried Carolyn May. “You 


222 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


stopped too quick, Chet Gormley. Goodness ! 
There’s a hole in the ice ! ” 

“ And I didn’t see it till we was almost in it,” 
acknowledged Chet. “ It’s more’n a hole. Why ! 
there’s a great field of ice broke off and sailin’ out 
into the lake.” 

“Oh, my!” gasped the little girl, awed, “isn’t 
that great, Chet? ” 

“ It’s great that we didn’t get caught on it,” mut- 
tered Chet, deeply impressed by the peril. 

“ We can’t go any farther, can we? ” she asked. 

“ Nope. Got to turn back. Why, hullo ! it’s 
snowin’ ! ” 

“ Dear me ! and we didn’t bring any umbrella,” 
observed Carolyn May. 

“ You call Prince. I guess we’d better get back,” 
Chet said more seriously. “ We’re three miles from 
town, if we’re an inch.” 

“ And we can’t see the town or the boats or the 
docks! Oh, Chet! isn’t this fun? I never was out 
in a snowstorm on the ice before.” 

The snow was damp and clung to their clothing. 
Chet saw that it was going to clog his skates, too. 
He would not let the child see that he was worried; 
but the situation was no ordinary one. 

In the first place, it was hard to tell the points of 
the compass in the snowstorm. Prince might be able 
to smell his way back to land; but Chet Gormley 
was not endowed with the same sense of smell that 
Prince possessed. 


THE SPRING FRESHET 


223 


The boy knew at once that he must be careful in 
making his way home with the little girl. Having 
seen one great fissure in the ice, he might come upon 
another. It seemed to him as though the ice under 
his feet was in motion. In the distance was the 
sound of a reverberating crash that could mean but 
one thing. The ice in the cove was breaking up! 

The waters of the two brooks were pouring down 
into the cove. This swelling flood lifted the great 
sheet of spongy ice and set it in motion. Every- 
where at the head of the cove the ice was cracking 
and breaking up. The wind helped. Spring had 
really come, and the annual freshet was likely now 
to force the ice entirely out of the cove and open the 
way for traffic in a few hours. 


CHAPTER XXI 


THE CHAPEL BELL 

I F Joseph Stagg had obeyed the precept of his 
little niece on this particular afternoon and had 
been “ looking up,” instead of having his nose 
in the big ledger, making out monthly statements, he 
might have discovered the coming storm in season to 
withdraw his permission to Chet to take Carolyn 
May out on the ice. 

It was always dark enough in the little back office 
in winter for the hardware dealer to have a lamp 
burning. So he did not notice the snow flurry that 
had taken Sunrise Cove in its arms until he chanced 
to walk out to the front of the store for needed 
exercise. 

“I declare to man, it’s snowing!” muttered 
Joseph Stagg. “ Thought we’d got through with 
that for this season.” 

He opened the store door. There was a chill, 
clammy wind, and the snow was damp and packed 
quickly under foot. The street was already well 
covered, and the snow stuck to the awning frames 
and the fronts of the buildings across the way. 

“ Hum ! If that Chet Gormley were here now, he 
might be of some use for once,” thought Mr. Stagg. 
224 


THE CHAPEL BELL 


225 


“ But, of course, he never is here when I want him. 
He could clean this walk before folks get all balled 
up walking on it.” 

Suddenly he bethought him of the errand that had 
taken the boy away from the store. Not at once 
was the hardware merchant startled by the thought; 
but he cast a critical glance skyward, trying to meas- 
ure the downfall of snow. 

“ He’ll be coming back — with Hannah’s Car’lyn. 
Of course, he isn’t rattle-brained enough to take her 
out on the ice when it’s snowing like this.” 

“ Hey, Stagg! ” shouted a shopkeeper from over 
the way, who had likewise come to the door, u did 
you hear that? ” 

“Hear what?” asked Joseph Stagg, puzzled. 

“There she goes again! That’s ice, old man. 
She’s breaking up. We’ll have spring with us in no 
time now. I told Scofield this morning he could 
begin to load that schooner of his. The ice is going 
out of the cove.” 

The reverberating crash that had startled Chet 
Gormley had startled Joseph Stagg as well. 

“My goodness!” gasped the hardware dealer, 
and he started instantly away from the store, bare- 
headed as he was, without locking the door behind 
him — something he had never done before, since 
he had established himself in business on the main 
street of Sunrise Cove. 

Just why he ran he could scarcely have explained. 
Of course, the children had not gone out in this snow- 


226 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


storm! Mrs. Gormley — little sense as he believed 
the seamstress possessed — would not have allowed 
them to venture. 

Yet, why had Chet not returned? Mr. Stagg 
knew very well that the ungainly boy was no shirk. 
Having been sent home for the particular purpose 
of taking Carolyn May out on her sled, he would 
have done that, or returned immediately to the store. 
Although prone to find fault with Chet Gormley, 
the hardware dealer recognised his good qualities as 
certainly as anybody did. 

He quickened his pace. He was running — slip- 
ping and sliding over the wet snow — when he turned 
into the street on which his store boy and his wid- 
owed mother lived. 

The cottage was a little, boxlike place, and one 
had to climb steps to get to it. Mrs. Gormley saw 
him coming from the windows of the tiny front 
room which served her as parlour and workroom 
combined. The seamstress tottered to the door 
and opened it wide, clinging to it for support. 

“ Oh, oh, Mr. Stagg! What’s happened now? ” 
she gasped. “ I hope poor Chet ain’t done nothin’ 
that he shouldn’t ha’ done. I’m sure he tries to do 
his very best. If he’s done anything ” 

“Where is he?” Joseph Stagg managed to say. 

“Where — where is he?” repeated the widow. 
“ Oh, do come in, Mr. Stagg. It’s snowin’, ain’t it? ” 

Mr. Stagg plunged into the little house, head 
down, and belligerent. 


THE CHAPEL BELL 


227 


“Where’s that plagued boy?” he demanded 
again. “ Don’t tell me he’s taken Hannah’s Car’lyn 
out on the cove in this storm ! ” 

“ But — but you told him he could ! ” wailed the 
widow. 

“What if I did? I didn’t know ’twas going to 
snow like this, did I ? ” 

“ But it wasn’t snowin’ when they went,” said 
Mrs. Gormley, plucking up some little spirit. “ I’m 
sure it wasn’t Chetwood’s fault. Oh, dear! ” 

“ Woman,” groaned Joseph Stagg, “ it doesn’t 
matter whose fault it is — or if it’s anybody’s fault. 
The mischief’s done. The ice is breaking up. It’s 
drifting out of the inlet. You can hear it — if you’d 
stop talking long enough.” This was rather unfair 
on Mr. Stagg’s part, for he was certainly doing more 
talking than anybody else. 

Just at this moment an unexpected voice broke 
into the discussion. There was a second woman — 
she had been sitting by the window — in Mrs. Gorm- 
ley’s front room. 

“ Are you positive they went out on the cove to 
slide, Mrs. Gormley?” 

“ Oh, yes, I be, Mandy,” answered the seamstress. 
“ Chet said he was goin’ there, and what Chet says 
he’ll do, he always does.” 

“ Then the ice has broken away and they have 
been carried out into the lake,” groaned Mr. Stagg. 

Mandy Parlow came quickly to the little hall. 

“ Perhaps not, Joseph,” she said, speaking directly 


228 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


to the hardware dealer. “ It may be the storm. It 
snows so fast they would easily get turned around — 
be unable to find the shore.” 

Another reverberating crash echoed from the 
cove. Mrs. Gormley wrung her hands. 

“Oh, my Chet! Oh, my Chet!” she wailed. 
“ He’ll be drowned!” 

“ He won’t be, if he’s got any sense,” snapped 
Mr. Stagg. “ I’ll get some men and we’ll go after 
them.” 

“ Call the dog, Joseph Stagg. Call the dog,” 
advised Miss Amanda. 

“ Heh? Didn’t Prince go with ’em? ” 

“ Oh, yes, he did,” wailed Mrs. Gormley. 

“ Call the dog, just the same,” repeated Amanda 
Parlow. “ Prince will hear you and bark.” 

“ God bless you ! So he will,” cried Mr. Stagg. 
“ You’ve got more sense than any of us, Mandy.” 

“ And I’ll have the chapel bell rung,” she said. 

“ Huh! what’s that for?” 

“ The wind will carry the sound out across the 
cove. That boy, Chet, will recognise the sound of 
the bell and it will give him an idea of where 
home is.” 

“You do beat all!” exclaimed Joseph Stagg, 
starting to leave the house. 

But Amanda stayed him for a moment. 

“ Find a cap of Chet’s, Mrs. Gormley,” she com- 
manded. “ Don’t you see Mr. Stagg has no hat? 
He’ll catch his death of cold.” 


THE CHAPEL BELL 


229 


“ Why, I never thought! ” He turned to speak 
directly to Miss Amanda, but she had gone back into 
the room and was putting on her outer wraps. Mrs. 
Gormley, red-eyed and weeping, brought the cap. 

“ Don’t — don’t be too hard on poor Chet, sir,” 
she sobbed. “ He ain’t to blame.” 

“ Of course he isn’t,” admitted the hardware 
dealer heartily. u And I’m sure he’ll look out for 
Hannah’s Car’lyn — he and the dog.” 

He plunged down the steps and kept on down the 
hill to the waterfront. There was an eating-place 
here where the waterside characters congregated, 
and Mr. Stagg put his head in at the door. 

“ Some of you fellers come out with me on the 
ice and look for a little girl — and a boy and a dog,” 
said Mr. Stagg. “ Like enough, they’re lost in this 
storm. And the ice is going out.” 

“ I seen ’em when they went down,” said one man, 
jumping up with alacrity. “ Haven’t they come 
back yet? ” 

“ No.” 

“ Snow come down and blinded ’em,” said another. 

“ Do you reckon the spring freshet’s re’lly due 
yet?” propounded a third man. 

“ Don’t matter whether she be or not, Right- 
child,” growled one of the other men. “ The kids 
ought to be home, ’stead o’ out on that punky ice.” 

They all rushed out of the eating-house and down 
to the nearest dock. Even the cook went, for he 
chanced to know Carolyn May. 


230 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

“ And let me tell you, she’s one rare little kid,” 
he declared, out of Mr. Stagg’s hearing. “ How 
she come to be related to that hard-as-nails Joe Stagg 
is a puzzler.” 

The hardware dealer might deserve this title in 
ordinary times, but this was one occasion when he 
plainly displayed emotion. 

Hannah’s Car’lyn, the little child he had learned 
to love, was somewhere on the ice in the driving 
storm. He would have rushed blindly out on the 
rotten ice, barehanded and alone, had the others 
not halted him. 

“ Hold on ! We want a peevy or two — them’s 
the best tools,” said one of the men. 

“ And a couple of lanterns,” said another. 

Joseph Stagg stood on the dock and shouted at 
the top of his voice: 

“ Prince ! Prince ! Prince ! ” 

The wind must have carried his voice a long way 
out across the cove, but there was no reply. 

Then, suddenly, the clear silver tone of a bell 
rang out. Its pitch carried through the storm star- 
tlingly clear. 

“ Hullo! what’s the chapel bell tolling for? ” de- 
manded the man who had suggested the lanterns. 

“ The boy will hear that! ” cried another. “ If 
he isn’t an idiot, he’ll follow the sound of the chapel 
bell.” 

“ Ya-as,” said the cook, “ if the ice ain’t opened 
up ’twixt him an’ the shore.” 


THE CHAPEL BELL 


231 


There was a movement out in the cove. One field 
of ice crashed against another. Mr. Stagg stifled a 
moan and was one of the first to climb down to the 
level of the ice. 

“ Have a care, Joe,” somebody warned him. 
“ This snow on the ice will mask the holes and fis- 
sures something scandalous.” 

But Joseph Stagg was reckless of his own safety. 
He started out into the snow, shouting again: 

“Prince! Prince! Here, boy! Here, boy! ” 

There was no answering bark. The ice cracked 
and shuddered and the gale slapped the snow against 
the searchers more fiercely than before. Had they 
been facing the wind, the snow would fairly have 
blinded them. 

“ And that’s what’s happened to the boy,” de- 
clared one of the men. “ Don’t you see? He’s got 
to face it to get back to town.” 

“ Then he is drifted with it,” said Mr. Stagg 
hopelessly. 

“ Say, he’ll know which is the right way ! Hear 
that bell?” rejoined another. “You can hear the 
chapel bell when you’re beating into the cove with the 
wind dead against you. I know, for I’ve been there.” 

“ Me, too,” agreed another. 

The clanging of the chapel bell was a comforting 
sound. Joseph Stagg did not know that, unable to 
find the sexton, Amanda Parlow had forced the 
church door and was tugging at the rough rope 
herself. 


232 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

Back and forth she rang the iron clapper, and it 
was no uncertain note that clanged across the storm- 
driven cove that afternoon. It was not work to 
which Carolyn May’s “ pretty lady ” was used. Her 
shoulders soon ached and the palms of her hands 
were raw and bleeding. But she continued to toll the 
bell without a moment’s surcease. 

She did not know how much that resonant sound 
might mean to those out on the ice — to the little girl 
and the boy who might have no other means of 
locating the shore, to the men who were searching 
for the lost ones; for they, too, might be lost in the 
6torm. 

The axle of the old bell groaned and shrieked at 
each revolution. Miss Amanda pulled on the rope 
desperately. She did not think to put her foot in 
the loop of the rope to aid her in this work. With 
the power of her arms and shoulders alone she 
brought the music from the throat of the bell. Every 
stroke was a shock that racked her body terribly. 
She dared not leave the rope for a minute while she 
called from the door for help. 

She hoped the sexton would come, wondering who 
was so steadily pulling the bell rope. Stroke fol- 
lowed stroke. The axle shrieked — and she could 
have done the same with pain had she not set her 
teeth in her lip and put forth every atom of will 
power she possessed to keep to the work and stifle 
her agony. 

On and on, till her brain swam, and her breath 


THE CHAPEL BELL 


233 


came chokingly from her lungs. Once she missed the 
stroke, her strength seeming to desert her for the 
moment. Frantically she clawed at the rope again 
and pulled down on it with renewed desperation. 

“ I will ! I will ! ” she gasped. 

Why? For the sake of the little child that she, 
too, had learned to love? 

Perhaps. And, yet, it was not the flowerlike face 
of little Carolyn May that Amanda Parlow saw con- 
tinually before her eyes as she tugged on the bell 
rope with bleeding hands. 

Going out into the storm, out on the treacherous 
ice, was a figure that she had watched during the long 
years from behind the curtains of her front room. 
It was the most familiar figure in the world to her. 

She had seen it change from a youthful, willowy 
shape to a solid, substantial, middle-aged figure dur- 
ing these years. She had seen it aging before its 
time. No wonder she could visualise it now so 
plainly out there on the ice. 

“Joe! Joe!” she muttered each time that she 
bore down on the bell rope, and the iron tongue 
shouted the word for her, far across the snow-blotted 


cove. 


CHAPTER XXII 


CHET GORMLEY’S AMBITION 

C AROLYN MAY was not the first of the trio 
caught out on the moving ice to be frightened. 
Perhaps because she had such unbounded 
faith in the good intentions of everybody towards 
her, the child could not imagine anything really hurt- 
ing her. 

That is, excepting wildcats. Carolyn May was 
pretty well convinced that they did not like little 
girls. 

“ Oh, isn’t this fun ! ” she crowed, bending her 
head before the beating of the storm. “ Do hang 
on, Princey.” 

But Prince could not hang on so well, now that 
they faced the wind. He slipped off the sled twice, 
and that delayed them. Under his skates, Chet could 
feel the ice heave, while the resonant cracks followed 
each other like a file-fire of musketry. 

“ Goodness me ! ” gasped Carolyn May, “ the ice 
seems to be going all to pieces, Chet. I hope it 
won’t till we get back to the shore.” 

“ I’m hopin’ that, too,” returned the boy. 

He had quickly realised that they were in peril, 
234 


CHET GORMLEY’S AMBITION 235 

but he would not let Carolyn May see that he was 
frightened — no, indeed ! But he had to give up try- 
ing to make Prince sit on the sled. 

“ He’ll just have to run. He can do it in this 
snow,” said Chet. “ I declare ! he can get along 
better than I can. I guess I’d better take off my 
skates.” 

“ I’ll hold ’em for you, Chet,” Carolyn May cried, 
laughing. “ My! doesn’t this snow slap you hard? ” 

The boy unstrapped the skates swiftly. He had 
a very good reason for removing them. If the ice 
was breaking up into floes, he might skate right off 
into the water, being unable to halt quickly enough, 
if on the steel runners. 

He now plodded on, head down, dragging the sled 
and the child, with Prince slipping and scratching 
along beside them. 

Suddenly he came to open water. It was so broad 
a channel that he could not hope to leap it; and, of 
course, he could not get the sled and the little girl 
across. 

“ My!” cried Carolyn May, “that place wasn’t 
here when we came out, was it, Chet? It must have 
just come here.” 

“ I don’t think it was here before,” admitted the 
boy. 

“ Or maybe you’re not going back the way you 
came?” suggested the little girl. “Are you sure 
you’re going the right way home? ” 

Chet really was doubtful of his direction. He 


236 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

believed that the wind was blowing directly down 
the cove, but it might have shifted. The thickly fall- 
ing snow blinded and confused him. 

Suddenly a sound reached their ears that startled 
both; it even made Prince prick up his ears and listen. 
Then the dog sat up on his haunches and began to 
howl. 

“ Oh, don’t , Prince ! ” gasped Carolyn May. 
“ Who ever told you you could sing, just because you 
hear a church bell ringing?’’ 

“ That’s the chapel bell ! ” cried Chet Gormley. 
“ Now Pm sure Pm right. But we must get around 
this open patch of water.” 

He set off along the edge of the open water, which 
looked black and angry. The ice groaned and 
cracked in a threatening way. He was not sure 
whether the floe they were on had completely broken 
away from the great mass of ice in the cove and 
was already drifting out into the lake or not. 

Haste, however, he knew was imperative. The 
tolling of the chapel bell coming faintly down the 
wind, Chet drew the sled swiftly along the edge of 
the opening, the dog trotting along beside them, 
whining. Prince plainly did not approve of this. 

“ Here it is ! ” shouted the boy in sudden joy. 
“ Now we’ll be all right, Car’lyn May! ” 

“ Oh, Pm so glad, Chet,” said the little girl. 
“ For Pm getting real cold, and this snow makes me 
all wet.” 

Chet was tempted to take off his coat and put it 


CHET GORMLEY’S AMBITION 237 

about her. But the coat was thin, and he felt that 
it was already soaked through. It would not do her 
any material good. 

“ Keep up your heart, Car’lyn May,” he begged. 
“ I guess we’ll get through all right now.” 

“ Oh, I’m not really afraid,” the little girl 
answered. “ Only I’d really like to be on shore.” 

Chet would have liked to be on shore at that very 
moment himself. He swiftly drew the sled around 
the upper end of the open piece of water. The ice 
was “ bucking ” under his feet, and scarcely had they 
got away from the water when the crack extended 
clear across the cove and the floe drifted away. 

“Hurrah!” shouted the boy, his courage rising 
again. “ We’re well rid of that old place.” 

“ Oh, isn’t it good that we got away from there? ” 
Carolyn May remarked. “ Why ! we might have 
drifted right out into the middle of the lake and been 
home too late for supper.” 

Chet had no rejoinder to make to this. He real- 
ised that the entire surface of the cove ice was 
breaking up. Again and again the shattering sounds 
announced the splitting of the ice floes. He hastened 
on towards the sound of the tolling bell, sharply on 
the watch for other breaks in the ice. 

Here was another — a wide-spreading crevasse 
filled with black water. Chet had no idea to which 
direction he should turn. And, indeed, it seemed 
to him as though the opening was growing wider 
each moment. The ice on which they stood must 


23B CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

be completely severed from that further up in the 
inlet ! 

The boy had become frightened. Carolyn May 
had little idea of their danger. Prince sat up and 
howled. It seemed to the boy as though they were 
in desperate straits, indeed. 

u You’ve got to be a brave girl, Car’lyn May,” he 
said. “ I’m goin’ to swim across this place and 
then drag you over. You stick to the sled and you 
won’t scarcely get wet even.” 

“Oh, Chet! but you’ll get wet!” she cried. 
“And your mother’ll punish you, Chet Gormley! ” 

“ Oh, no, she won’t,” replied the boy, with a hys- 
terical laugh. “ Don’t you fear. Now, sit right 
still.” 

He had untied one end of the sled rope and looped 
it around his wrist. The open water was not more 
than eight feet across. He knew it was going to be 
an exceedingly cold plunge, but he saw no other way 
of overcoming the difficulty. 

Prince began to bark madly when the boy sat 
down and thrust his legs into the black water. The 
chill of it almost took Chet’s breath away when he 
finally slid down, shoulder deep, into the flood. 

“Oh, Chet! don’t you dare get drownd-ed!” 
begged Carolyn May, terrified now by the situation. 

He turned a bright face on her as he struck out 
for the edge of the other ice floe. Chet might not 
have been the wisest boy who ever lived, but he was 
brave, in the very best sense of the word. 


CHET GORMLEY’S AMBITION 239 

“ Don’t worry about me, Car’lyn May,” he chat- 
tered. 

The desperate chill of the water almost stopped 
the boy’s heart. The shock of this plunge into the icy 
depths was sufficient to kill a weak person. But Chet 
Gormley had plenty of reserve strength, whether he 
was noted for good sense or not. 

Almost anybody in his situation would have re- 
mained on the ice and hoped for help from shore; 
but it never entered Chet’s mind that he could ex- 
pect anybody else to save Carolyn May but himself. 
She was in his care, and Chet believed it was up to 
him to get her safely ashore, and that in as quick 
time as possible. 

Three strokes took him across the patch of open 
water. He hooked his arms over the edge of the 
ice to his elbows, took breath for a moment, and then 
dragged his long frame up on the bobbing, uncertain 
field. 

It was a mighty struggle. Chet’s saturated gar- 
ments and his boots filled with water weighed him 
down like lead. But he accomplished it at last. He 
was safely on the ice. He glanced back over his 
shoulder and saw the child on the sled in the snow- 
storm and the dog beside her. 

“We’ll be all right in a minute, Car’lyn May! ” 
he called, climbing to his feet. 

And then he discovered something that almost 
stunned him. The line he had looped around his 
wrist had slipped off ! He had no way of reaching 


2 4 o CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

the rope attached to the sled save by crossing back 
through the water. 

Chet felt that he could not do it. 

“Oh, Chet! Chet!” wailed Carolyn May, 
“ you’ve dropped my rope ! ” 

The end of it hung in the water. The child, of 
course, could not throw it across to him. The boy 
was stricken dumb and motionless. That is, he was 
motionless, save for the trembling of his limbs and 
the chattering of his teeth. The chill of the water 
had struck through, it seemed, to the very marrow 
of his bones. 

What he should do, poor Chet could not think. 
His brain seemed completely clouded. And he was 
so cold and helpless that there was not much he 
could do, anyway. 

His clothing was stiffening on his frame. The 
snow beat against his back, and he could scarcely 
stand. The space was growing wider between the 
edge of the ice where he stood and that edge where 
Carolyn May and the dog were. 

But what was the little girl doing? He saw her 
hauling in on the wet rope, and she seemed to be 
speaking to Prince, for he stood directly before her, 
his ears erect, his tail agitated. By-and-by he barked 
sharply. 

“ Now , Princey ! ” Chet heard her cry. 

She thrust the end of the rope into the dog’s jaws 
and waved her mittened hand towards the open 
water and the unhappy Chet beyond it. 


CHET GORMLEY’S AMBITION 241 

Prince sprang around, faced the strait of black 
water, shaking the end of the rope vigorously. Chet 
saw what she meant, and he shrieked to the dog: 

“ Come on, Prince ! Come on, good dog! Here, 
sir ! ” 

Prince could not bark his reply with the rope in 
his jaws, but he sprang into the water, and swam 
sturdily towards Chet. 

“ Come on, you good dog! ” yelled Chet, half- 
crying and half-laughing. “ You have the pep, you 
have, Princey ! Come on ! ” 

He stooped and seized the dog’s forelegs when 
he came near and helped him scramble out on the 
ice. The end of the rope was safely in his grasp 
again. 

“ My goodness ! My goodness ! I could sing a 
hallelujah! ” declared Chet, his eyes streaming now. 
“Hold on, now, Car’lyn May! I’m goin’ to drag 
you across. You hang right on to that sled.” 

“ Oh, I’ll cling to it, Chet,” declared the little 
girl. “ And do take me off this ice, quick, for I think 
it’s floating out with me.” 

Chet drew on the rope, the sled moved forward 
and plunged, with just a little splash, into the pool. 
Prince barked desperately as his little mistress 
screamed. 

“ Oh, I’m getting wet, Chet! ” she shrieked. 

“Hold hard!” yelled Chet in return. “You 
won’t get very wet.” 

In a few seconds he had “ snaked ” the sled to 


242 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

the edge of the ice floe on which he stood. He picked 
the sobbing Carolyn May off the sled and then lifted 
that up, too. The little girl was wet below her waist. 

“ I’m — I’m just as co-cold as I — I can be,” she 
chattered. “Oh, Chet! take me home please!” 

“ I’m a-going to,” chattered the lad in return. 

He dragged off his coat now, wrung it as dry as 
he could, and wrapped it around Carolyn May’s legs 
before he seated her on the sled again. Then he 
seized the rope once more and started towards the 
sound of the chapel bell. 

How glad he was that the bell still sounded ! He 
was sure of that — and it was the only thing he was 
sure of. 

He could only stagger on, now, for his feet were 
very heavy, and he felt as though he should fall at 
any moment. And if he did fall he was quite sure 
he would not be able to get up again. 

Chet knew he could not face Mr. Stagg if anything 
really bad happened to “ Hannah’s Car’lyn.” All 
his hopes of advancement and ultimate success would 
be swept away, too, if this adventure ended in 
tragedy. 

Foolish as perhaps the boy’s longings and hopes 
were, the mark he had set himself to gain was very 
real, indeed, to Chet Gormley. He hoped some day 
to see that sign, “ Stagg & Gormley,” over the hard- 
ware store door. If for no other reason than that, 
he would not give up now. 

The chapel bell tolled on. The sleet beat in his 


CHET GORMLEY’S AMBITION 243 

face stingingly. He panted and staggered, but per- 
severed. 

“ I’ll show him,” murmured Chet. “ I won’t 
give up ! Poor little kid — I guess not! I’ll get her 
home ” 

Prince began to bark. He could not move for- 
ward much faster than Chet did; but he faced to the 
right and began to bark with persistence. 

“ There — there’s something over there, Chet,” 
murmured Carolyn May. She was all but breathless 
herself. 

Then, through the wind and the storm, came a 
faint hail. Prince eagerly pursued his barking. 
Chet tried to reply to the hail, but his voice was 
only a hoarse croak. 

“ We’ve got to keep on — we’ve got to keep on,” 
muttered the lad, dragging the sled slowly. 

His submersion in the icy water had been a serious 
matter. His limbs were too heavy, it seemed, for 
further progress. He scarcely knew now what he 
was doing — only the tolling of the chapel bell seemed 
to draw him on — and on — and on 

The dog had disappeared. Carolyn May was 
weeping frankly. Chet Gormley was pushing slowly 
through the storm, staggering at each step, scarcely 
aware in what direction he was heading. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


HOW TO WRITE A SERMON 

J OSEPH STAGG heard the dog barking first of 
all. Rightchild and the cook were directly be- 
hind him, and when the hardware dealer bore 
suddenly off to the right they shouted after him. 

“ If the ice is breaking up, Joe, that’s where she’ll 
give way first — in the middle of the cove,” Right- 
child said. 

“ And the boy wouldn’t know any better than to 
come right up the middle,” Mr. Stagg declared. 

“ You’re right,” agreed the cook. 

“ Besides, there’s the dog. Listen! ” 

Prince’s barking was unmistakable now. The 
other men realised what the sound must mean. It 
was as convincing as the chapel bell; and that kept 
on as steadily as a clock pendulum. 

The men with Mr. Stagg having spread out on 
the ice like a skirmishing party, now closed in to- 
wards the point from which sounded the dog’s bark- 
ing. The hardware dealer shouted as he ran. He 
was the most reckless of them all, and on several 
occasions came near to falling. The snow over the 
ice made the footing treacherous, indeed. 

244 


HOW TO WRITE A SERMON 245 

Suddenly an object appeared in the smother of 
falling snow. Hoarsely the dog barked again. Mr. 
Stagg shouted: 

“ Hey, Prince ! Prince ! Here we are ! ” 

The mongrel made for the hardware merchant 
and almost knocked him over. He was mad with 
joy. He barked and whined and leaped upon the 
man; and the sight of Joseph Stagg down on his 
knees in the snow trying to hug the wriggling dog 
was certainly one to startle his neighbours. 

“ Show ’em to us, good dog! ” cried Uncle Joe. 
“Take us to ’em! Where’s Hannah’s Car’lyn? 
Show us, boy ! ” 

“ That dog’s a good un,” declared Rightchild. 

“ Now you’ve said something,” agreed the eat- 
ing-house cook. 

Prince lapped Mr. Stagg’s face and then ran off 
through the falling snow, barking and leaping. The 
men hurried after him. Twice or thrice the dog 
was back, to make sure that he was followed. Then 
the men saw something outlined in the driving 
snow. 

u Uncle Joe ! Uncle Joe ! ” 

The child’s shrill voice reached the hardware 
merchant. There was poor Chet, staggering on, 
leaning against the wind, and pulling the sled behind 
him. 

“ Well, you silly chump! ” growled Joseph Stagg. 
“ Where’re you going, anyway? ” 

“ Oh, Uncle Joe ! ” wailed Carolyn May, “ he 


246 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

isn’t anything like that, at all! He’s just the very 
bravest boy! And he’s all wet and cold.” 

At the conclusion of this declaration poor Chet 
fell to his knees, and then slipped quietly forward 
on his face. 

“ I vum ! ” grunted the hardware dealer, “ I guess 
the boy is all in.” 

But Chet did not lose consciousness. He raised 
a faint murmur which reached Mr. Stagg’s ears. 

“ I — I did the best I could, Mr. Stagg. Take — 
take her right up to mother. She’ll fix Car’lyn up, 
all right.” 

“ Say, kid ! ” exclaimed the cook, “ I guess you 
need a bit of fixin’ up yourself. Why, see here, 
boys, this chap’s been in the water and his clothes 
is froze stiff.” 

“ Pick him up and put him on the sled here, boys,” 
Mr. Stagg said. “ I’ll carry Hannah’s Car’lyn my- 
self.” 

The party, including the excited Prince, got back 
to the docks without losing any time and without 
further accident. Still the chapel bell was ringing, 
and somebody said: 

“ We’d have been up a stump for knowing the 
direction, if it hadn’t been for that bell.” 

“ Me, too,” muttered Chet Gormley. “ That’s 
what kep’ me goin’, folks — the chapel bell. It just 
seemed to be callin’ me home.” 

Joseph Stagg carried his niece up to Mrs. Gorm- 
ley’s little house, while Rightchild helped Chet along 


HOW TO WRITE A SERMON 247 

to the same destination. The seamstress met them 
at the door, wildly excited. 

“And what do you think?” she cried. “They 
took Mandy Parlow home in Tim’s hack. She was 
just done up, they tell me, pullin’ that chapel bell. 
Did you ever hear of such a silly critter — just be- 
cause she couldn’t find the sexton ! ” 

“ Hum ! you and I both seem to be mistaken about 
what constitutes silliness, Mrs. Gormley,” grumbled 
the hardware dealer. “ I was for calling your Chet 
silly, till I learned what he’d done. And you’d bet- 
ter not call Miss Mandy silly. The sound of the 
chapel bell gave us all our bearings. Both of ’em, 
Chet and Miss Mandy, did their best.” 

Carolyn May was taken home in Tim’s hack, too. 
To her surprise, Tim was ordered to stop at the 
Parlow house and go in to ask how Miss Amanda 
was. 

By this time the story of her pulling of the chapel- 
bell rope was all over Sunrise Cove, and the hack 
driver was, naturally, as curious as anybody. So he 
willingly went into the Parlow cottage, bringing back 
word that she was resting comfortably, Dr. Nugent 
having just left her. 

“ An’ she’s one brave gal,” declared Tim. 
“Pitcher of George Washington! pullin’ that bell 
rope ain’t no baby’s job.” 

Carolyn May did not altogether understand what 
Miss Amanda had done, but she was greatly pleased 
that Uncle Joe had so plainly displayed his interest 


248 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

in the carpenter’s daughter. On this particular occa- 
sion, however, she was so sleepy that she was lifted 
out of the hack when they reached home by Uncle 
Joe, who carried her into the house in his arms. 

When Aunty Rose heard the outline of the story 
she bustled about at once to get the little girl to bed. 
She sat up in bed and had her supper, with Prince 
sitting close beside her on the floor and Aunty Rose 
watching her as though she felt that something of 
an exciting nature might happen at any moment to 
the little girl. 

“I never did see such a child — I never did!” 
Aunty Rose repeated. 

The next morning Carolyn May seemed to be in 
good condition. Indeed, she was the only individual 
vitally interested in the adventure who did not pay 
for the exposure. Even Prince had barked his legs 
being hauled out on to the ice. Uncle Joe had caught 
a bad cold in his head and suffered from it for some 
time. Miss Amanda remained in bed for several 
days. But it was poor Chet Gormley who paid the 
dearest price for participation in the exciting inci- 
dent. Dr. Nugent had hard work fighting off pneu- 
monia. 

Mr. Stagg surprised himself by the interest he 
took in Chet. He closed his store twice each day 
to call at the Widow Gormley’s house. The seam- 
stress was so delighted with this attention on the 
hardware merchant’s part that she was willing to 
accept at its face value Chet’s hope and expectation 


HOW TO WRITE A SERMON 249 

that some day the sign over the store door would 
read, “ Stagg & Gormley.” 

It was a fact that Mr. Stagg found himself talk- 
ing with Chet more than he ever had before. The 
boy was lonely, and the man found a spark of interest 
in his heart for him that he had never previously dis- 
covered. He began to probe into his young em- 
ployee’s thoughts, to learn something of his outlook 
on life ; perhaps, even, he got some inkling of Chet’s 
ambition. 

That week the ice went entirely out of the cove. 
Spring was at hand, with its muddy roads, blue skies, 
sweeter airs, soft rains, and a general revivifying 
feeling. 

Aunty Rose declared that Carolyn May began at 
once to “ perk up.” Perhaps the cold, long winter 
had been hard for the child to bear. At least, being 
able to run out of doors without stopping to bundle 
up was a delight. 

One day the little girl had a more than ordinarily 
hard school task to perform. Everything did not 
come easy to Carolyn May, “ by any manner of 
means,” as Aunty Rose would have said. Composi- 
tion writing was her bane, and Miss Minnie had 
instructed all Carolyn May’s class to bring in a writ- 
ten exercise the next morning. The little girl wan- 
dered over to the churchyard with her slate and 
pencil — and Prince, of course — to try to achieve the 
composition. 

The earth was dry and warm and the grass was 


250 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

springing freshly. A soft wind blew from the south 
and brought with it the scent of growing things. 

The windows of the minister’s study overlooked 
this spot, and he was sitting at his desk while Carolyn 
May was laboriously writing the words on her slate 
(having learned to use a slate) which she expected 
later to copy into her composition book. 

The Reverend Afton Driggs watched her puzzled 
face and labouring fingers for some moments before 
calling out of the window to her. Several sheets of 
sermon paper lay before him on the desk, and per- 
haps he was having almost as hard a time putting on 
the paper what he desired to say as Carolyn May 
was having with her writing. 

Finally, he came to the window and spoke to her. 

“ Carolyn May,” he said, “ what are you 
writing? ” 

“ Oh, Mr. Driggs, is that you?” said the little 
girl, getting up quickly and coming nearer. “ Did 
you ever have to write a composition? ” 

“ Yes, Carolyn May, I have to write one or two 
each week.” And he sighed. 

“ Oh yes ! So you do ! ” the little girl agreed. 
“ You have to write sermons. And that must be a 
terribly tedious thing to do, for they have to be 
longer than my composition — a great deal longer.” 

“ So it is a composition that is troubling you,” the 
minister remarked. 

“ Yes, sir. I don’t know what to write — I really 
don’t. Miss Minnie says for us not to try any flights 


HOW TO WRITE A SERMON 251 

of fancy. I don’t just know what those are. But 
she says, write what is in us. Now, that don’t seem 
like a composition,” added Carolyn May doubtfully. 

“ What doesn’t?” 

“ Why, writing what is in us,” explained the little 
girl, staring in a puzzled fashion at her state, on 
which she had written several lines. “ You see, I 
have written down all the things that I ’member is 
in me.” 

“ For pity’s sake ! let me see it, child,” said the 
minister, quickly reaching down for the slate. When 
he brought it to a level with his eyes he was amazed 
by the following : 

“ In me there is my heart, my liver, my lungs, my 
verform pendicks, my stummick, two ginger cookies, 
a piece of pepmint candy, and my dinner.” 

“ For pity’s sake ! ” Mr. Driggs shut off this 
explosion by a sudden cough. 

“ I guess it isn’t much of a composition, Mr. 
Driggs,” Carolyn May said frankly. “ But how 
can you make your inwards be pleasant reading? ” 

The minister was having no little difficulty in re- 
straining his mirth. 

“ Go around to the door, Carolyn May, and ask 
Mrs. Driggs to let you in. Perhaps I can help you 
in this composition writing.” 

“ Oh, will you, Mr. Driggs? ” cried the little girl. 
“ That is awful kind of you.” 


252 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

The minister must have confided in his wife before 
she came to the door to let Carolyn May in, for she 
was laughing heartily. 

“You funny little thing! ” cried Mrs. Driggs, 
catching her up in her arms. “ Mr. Driggs says he 
is waiting for you — and this sermon day, too ! Go 
into his study.” 

The clergyman did not seem to mind neglecting 
his task for the pleasure of helping Carolyn May 
with hers. He explained quite clearly just what Miss 
Minnie meant by “writing what is in you.” 

“ Oh ! It’s what you think about a thing your- 
self — not what other folks think,” cried Carolyn 
May. “ Why, I can do that. I thought it was some- 
thing like those physerology lessons. Then I can 
write about anything I want to, can’t I ? ” 

“ I think so,” replied the minister. 

“ I’m awfully obliged to you, Mr. Driggs,” the 
little girl said. “ I wish I might do something for 
you in return.” 

“ Help me with my sermon, perhaps? ” he asked, 
smiling. 

“ I would if I could, Mr. Driggs.” Carolyn May 
was very earnest. 

“ Well, now, Carolyn May, how would you go 
about writing a sermon, if you had one to write? ” 

“Oh, Mr. Driggs!” exclaimed the little girl, 
clasping her hands. “ I know just how I’d do it.” 

“ You do? Tell me how, then, my dear,” he 
returned, smiling. “ Perhaps you have an inspira- 


HOW TO WRITE A SERMON 253 

tion for writing sermons that I have never yet 
found.” 

“ Why, Mr. Driggs, I’d try to write every word 
so’s to make folks that heard it happier. That’s 
what I’d do. I’d make ’em look up and see the sun- 
shine and the sky — and the mountains, ’way off yon- 
der — so they’d see nothing but bright things and 
breathe only good air and hear birds sing — Oh, 
dear me, that — that is the way I’d write a sermon.” 

The clergyman’s face had grown grave as he 
listened to her, but he kissed her warmly as he 
thanked her and bade her good-bye. When she had 
gone from the study he read again the text written 
at the top of the first sheet of sermon paper. It was 
taken from the book of the Prophet Jeremiah. 

“ ‘ To write every word so’s to make folks that 
heard it happier,’ ” he murmured as he crumpled the 
sheet of paper in his hand and dropped it in the 
waste-basket. 


CHAPTER XXIV 


THE AWAKENING 

W ITH the opening of spring and the close of 
the sledding season, work had stopped at 
Adams’ camp. Rather, the entire plant 
had been shipped twenty miles deeper into the for- 
est — mill, bunk-house, cook-shed, and such corru- 
gated-iron shacks as were worth carting away. 

All that was left on the site of the busy camp were 
huge heaps of sawdust, piles of slabs, discarded tim- 
bers, and the half-burned bricks into which had been 
built the portable boiler and engine. 

And old Judy Mason. She was not considered 
worth moving to the new site of the camp. She was 
bedridden with rheumatism. This was the report 
Tim, the hackman, had brought in. 

The old woman’s husband had gone with the out- 
fit to the new camp, for he could not afford to give 
up his work. Judy had not been so bad when the 
camp was broken up, but when Tim went over for a 
load of slabs for summer firewood, he discovered her 
quite helpless in her bunk and almost starving. The 
rheumatic attack had become serious. 

Amanda Parlow had at once ridden over with Dr. 


254 


THE AWAKENING 


255 

Nugent. Then she had come home for her bag and 
had insisted on the carpenter’s driving her back to 
the abandoned camp, proposing to stay with Judy 
till the old woman was better. 

Aunty Rose had one comment to make upon it, 
and Carolyn May another. Mr. Stagg’s housekeeper 
said: 

“ That is just like a parcel of men folks — leaving 
an old woman to look out for herself. Disgraceful ! 
And Amanda Parlow will not even be thanked for 
what she does.” 

“ How brave and helpful it is of Miss Amanda ! ” 
Carolyn May cried. “ Dear me, when I grow up, I 
hope I can be a gradjerate nurse like Miss Mandy.” 

“ I reckon that’s some spell ahead,” chuckled Mr. 
Parlow, to whom she said this when he picked her 
up for a drive after taking his daughter to the camp. 

“ And you’ll come nigh to wantin’ to be a dozen 
other things ’fore you’re old enough to go to work 
in a hospital, I shouldn’t wonder. Gidap, Cherry! ” 

Cherry tossed his head and increased his stride. 
The carpenter had one weakness — that was horse- 
flesh. He was always the owner of a roadster of 
note. 

“ That’s a funny name for a horse, Mr. Parlow,” 
observed Carolyn May. 

“ Cherry red. That’s his colour.” 

“ Oh!” 

“ And I got a cat home that’s cherry colour, too.” 

“ Why-e-e-e ! ” exclaimed the little girl, “ I’m sure 


256 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

I never saw that one, Mr. Parlow. Your cat is 
black — all black.” 

“ Well,” chuckled the old man over the ancient 
joke, “ he’s the colour of a blackheart cherry.” 

“Oh, my! I never thought of that,” giggled 
Carolyn May. She looked up into his hard, dry 
face with an expression of perplexity in her own. 
“ Mr. Parlow,” she went on seriously, “ don’t you 
think now that Miss Amanda ought to be happy? ” 

“ Happy ! ” exclaimed the carpenter, startled. 
“What about, child?” 

“ Why, about everything. You know, once I 
asked you about her being happy, and — and you 
didn’t seem fav’rable. You said ‘ Bah! ’ ” 

Carolyn May’s imitation of that explosive word 
as previously used by Mr. Parlow was absolutely 
funny; but the carpenter only looked at her side- 
wise, and his face remained grim. 

“So I said ‘Bah,’ did I?” he grunted. “And 
what makes you think I might not say it now? ” 

“ Why,” explained Carolyn May earnestly, “ I 
hoped you’d come to see things like — like I do. You 
are lots pleasanter than you used to be, Mr. Parlow 
— indeed, you are. You are happier yourself.” 

The old man made no reply for a minute, and 
Carolyn May had the patience to wait for her sug- 
gestion to “ sink in.” Finally, he said: 

“ I dunno but you’re right, Car’lyn May. Not 
that it matters much, I guess, whether a body’s 
happy or not in this world,” he added grudgingly. 


THE AWAKENING 


257 


“Oh, yes, it does, Mr. Parlow! It matters a 
great deal, I am sure — to us and to other people. 
If we’re not happy inside of us, how can we be cheer- 
ful outside , and so make other people happy? And 
that is what I mean about Miss Amanda.” 

“What about Mandy?” 

“ She isn’t happy,” sighed Carolyn May. “ Not 
really. She’s just as good as good can be. She is 
always doing for folks, and helping. But she can’t 
be real happy.” 

“Why not?” growled Mr. Parlow, his face 
turned away. 

“ Why — ’cause — Well, you know, Mr. Parlow, 
she can’t be happy as long as she and my Uncle Joe 
are mad at each other.” 

Mr. Parlow uttered another grunt, but the child 
went bravely on. 

“ You know very well that’s so. And I don’t 
know what to do about it. It just seems too awful 
that they should hardly speak, and yet be so fond 
of each other deep down.” 

“ How d’you know they’re so fond of each other 
— deep down? ” Mr. Parlow demanded. 

“ I know my Uncle Joe likes Miss Mandy, ’cause 
he always speaks so — so respectful of her. And I 
can see she likes him, in her eyes,” replied the ob- 
servant Carolyn May. “ Oh, yes, Mr. Parlow, they 
ought to be happy again, and we ought to make 
’em so.” 

“Huh! Who ought to?” 


258 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

“You and me. We ought to find some way of 
doing it. I’m sure we can, if we just think hard 
about it.” 

“ Huh ! ” grunted the carpenter again, turning 
Cherry into the dooryard. “ Huh ! ” 

This was not a very encouraging response. Yet 
he did think of it. The little girl had started a train 
of thought in Mr. Parlow’s mind that he could not 
sidetrack. 

He knew very well that what she had said about 
his daughter and Joseph Stagg was quite true. In 
his selfishness he had been glad all these years that 
the hardware merchant was balked of happiness. 
As for his daughter’s feelings, Mr. Parlow had put 
them aside as “ women’s foolishness.” He had never 
much considered women in his life. 

The carpenter had always been a self-centred in- 
dividual, desirous of his own comfort, and rather 
miserly. He had not approved, in the first place, of 
the intimacy between Joseph Stagg and his daugh- 
ter Amanda. 

“ No good’ll come o’ that” he had told himself. 

That is, no good to Jedidiah Parlow. He fore- 
saw at the start the loss of the girl’s help about the 
house, for his wife was then a helpless invalid. 

Then Mrs. Parlow died. This death made plainer 
still to the carpenter that Mandy’s marriage was 
bound to bring inconvenience to him. Especially if 
she married a close-fisted young business man like Joe 
Stagg would this be true. For, at the reading of his 


THE AWAKENING 


259 


wife’s will, Mr. Parlow discovered that the property 
they occupied, even the shop in which he worked, 
which had been given to Mrs. Parlow by her parents, 
was to be the sole property of her daughter. Mandy 
was the heir. Mr. Parlow did not possess even a 
life interest in the estate. 

It was a blow to the carpenter. He made a good 
income and had money in bank, but he loved money 
too well to wish to spend it after he had made it. 
He did not want to give up the place. If Mandy 
remained unmarried there would never be any ques- 
tion between them of rent or the like. 

Therefore, if he was not actually the cause of the 
difference that arose between the two young people, 
he seized and enlarged upon it and did all in his 
power to make a mere misunderstanding grow into 
a quarrel that neither of the proud, high-spirited 
lovers would bridge. 

Jedidiah Parlow knew why Joe Stagg had taken 
that other girl to Faith Camp Meeting. The young 
man had stopped at the Parlow place when Amanda 
was absent and explained to the girl’s father. But 
the latter had never mentioned this fact to his 
daughter. 

Instead, he had made Joe’s supposed offense the 
greater by suggestion and innuendo. And it was he, 
too, who had urged the hurt Mandy to retaliate by 
going to the dance with another young man. Meet- 
ing Joe Stagg later, the carpenter had said bitter 
things to him, purporting to come from Mandy. It 


26 o CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


was all mean and vile ; the old man knew it now — as 
he had known it then. 

All these years he had tried to add fuel to the fire 
of his daughter’s anger against Joe Stagg. And he 
believed he had benefited thereby. But, somehow, 
during the past few months, he had begun to wonder 
if, after all, “ the game was worth the candle.” 

Suddenly he had gained a vision of what Amanda 
Parlow’s empty life meant to her. And it was empty, 
he knew — empty of that love which every woman 
craves; empty of the greatest thing that can come 
into her life. 

Mr. Parlow had realised what had been denied his 
daughter when he had first seen Carolyn May in 
Mandy’s arms. That was the thing lacking. The 
love of children, the right to care for children of her 
own. He had been practically the cause of this 
denial. Sometimes, when he thought of it, the car- 
penter was rather shaken. Suppose he should be 
called to account for his daughter’s loss? 

Carolyn May, interested only in seeing her friends 
made happy, had no idea of the turmoil she had cre- 
ated in Mr. Parlow’s mind. She went her way as 
usual, scattering sunshine, and hiding as much as she 
could the trouble that gnawed in her own heart. 

The love of Uncle Joe and Aunty Rose and Miss 
Amanda and Mr. Driggs and the host of her other 
friends at The Corners and in Sunrise Cove could 
not take the place in faithful little Carolyn May’s 
heart of that parental affection which had been so 


THE AWAKENING 261 

lavished on her all the days of her life, until the 
sailing of the Dunraven. 

Had the little girl possessed brothers and sisters, 
it might have been different. Mr. and Mrs. Cam- 
eron could not, in that case, have devoted themselves 
so entirely to the little girl. 

She had been her mother’s close companion and 
her father’s chum. True, it had made her u old- 
fashioned ” — old in speech and in her attitude to- 
wards many things in life, but she was none the less 
charming because of this difference between her and 
other children. 

Her upbringing had indeed made her what she 
was. She thought more deeply than other children 
of her age. Her nature was the logical outgrowth 
of such training as she had received from associating 
with older people. 

She was seriously desirous of seeing Uncle Joe and 
Miss Amanda made happy in their love for each 
other. She was a born matchmaker — there was no 
doubt of that. 

During the time that the nurse was at the aban- 
doned lumber camp caring for Judy Mason, Carolyn 
May hoped that something might take Uncle Joe 
there. She even tried to get him to drive her over 
to see Miss Amanda on Sunday afternoon. But 
Uncle Joe did not keep a horse himself, and he 
would not be coaxed into hiring one for any such 
excursion. 

“Besides, what would your Aunty Rose say?” 


262 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


he asked his little niece. “ She would not approve 
of our doing such a thing on the Lord’s Day, I am 
sure.” 

Nevertheless, he was as eager as a boy to do it. 
It was because he shrank from having the neighbours 
comment on his doing the very thing he desired to do 
that he so sternly refused to consider Carolyn May’s 
suggestion. Those neighbours might think that he 
was deliberately going to call on Miss Amanda ! 

The next Friday, after school was out, Miss 
Amanda appeared at the Stagg home and suggested 
taking Carolyn May into the woods with her, “ for 
the week-end,” as she laughingly said. Tim, the 
hackman, had brought the nurse home for a few 
hours and would take her back to Judy’s cabin. 

“ Poor old Judy is much better, but she is still 
suffering and cannot be left alone for long,” Miss 
Amanda said. “ Carolyn May will cheer her up.” 

Delighted, Carolyn May ran to get ready. Spring 
was far advanced and the woods were very beautiful. 
And to stay all night — two whole nights — in a log 
cabin seemed wonderfully attractive to the little girl. 

Aunty Rose let her go because she knew that 
Uncle Joe would approve of it. Indeed, they had 
talked the matter over already. Carolyn May 
missed Miss Amanda so that the hardware dealer 
had already agreed to some such arrangement as this. 
Mr. Parlow would drive over on Sunday afternoon 
and bring the little girl home. Of course, Prince 
had to go along. 


THE AWAKENING 


263 

That Friday evening at supper matters in the big 
kitchen of the Stagg house were really at a serious 
pass. Joseph Stagg sat down to the table visibly 
without appetite. Aunty Rose drank one cup of tea 
after another without putting a crumb between her 
lips. 

“ What’s the matter with you to-night, Joseph 
Stagg? ” his housekeeper finally demanded. “ Aren’t 
the victuals good enough for you?” 

“ No,” said Mr. Stagg drily, “ I think they’re 
poisoned. You don’t expect me to eat if you don’t 
set an example, do you? ” 

“ What I do has nothing to do with you, Joseph 
Stagg,” said Mrs. Kennedy, bridling. “ I’m pecking 
and tasting at victuals all day long. I get so I 
despise ’em.” 

“ Yes,” returned Mr. Stagg. “ And if Hannah’s 
Car’lyn don’t come back, I shall get to despise ’em, 
too.” 

“ Ha ! ” ejaculated the old lady. “ You do miss 
the little thing.” 

“Miss her? Bless me! I wouldn’t believe it 
made so much difference having her about. It’s 
knowing she really is away, and is going to be gone 
for a couple of days, that’s the matter, I s’pose. 
Say, Aunty Rose ! ” 

“ What is it, Joseph Stagg? ” 

“ What under the sun did we do before Hannah’s 
Car’lyn came here, anyway? Seems to me we didn’t 
really live, did we? ” 


264 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

Aunty Rose had no answer to make to these ques- 
tions. 

Uncle Joe missed kissing the little girl good-night. 
He even missed the rattle of Prince’s chain at the 
dog-house when he came back from the store late in 
the evening. 

The air had grown heavy and close, and he stood 
on the porch for a minute and snuffed knowingly at 
the odour a good deal as the dog might. 

“ There’s a fire over the mountain, I guess,” he 
said to Aunty Rose when he entered the house. 
“ We’re having a dry spring.” 

They went to bed. In the morning there was a 
smoky fog over everything — a fog that the sun did 
not dissipate, and behind which it looked like an 
enormous saffron ball. 

Mr. Stagg went down to the store as usual. On 
the way he passed the Parlow place, and he saw the 
carpenter in his shop door. Parlow was gazing with 
seeming anxiety into the fog cloud, his face turned 
towards the forest. Joseph Stagg did not know that, 
in all the years of their estrangement, the carpenter 
had never been so near speaking to the hardware 
dealer. 

The smoky tang in the air was as strong in Sunrise 
Cove as out in the country. The shopkeepers were 
talking about the fire. News had come over the 
long-distance wires that thousands of acres of wood- 
land were burning, that the forest reserves were out, 
and that the farmers of an entire township on the 


THE AWAKENING 


265 

far side of the mountain were engaged in trying to 
make a barrier over which the flames would not leap. 
It was the consensus of opinion, however, that the 
fire would not cross the range. It never had on 
former occasions, and the wind was against such an 
advance. The top of the ridge was covered with 
boulders and the vegetation was scant. 

“ Scarcely any chance of its swooping down on 
us,” decided Mr. Stagg. “ Reckon I won’t have to 
go home to plough fire furrows.” 

At the usual hour he started for The Corners for 
dinner. Having remained in the store all the morn- 
ing, he had not realised how much stronger the smell 
of smoke was than it had been at breakfast time. 
Quite involuntarily he quickened his pace. 

The fog and smoke overcast the sky thickly and 
made it of a brassy colour, just as though a huge 
copper pot had been overturned over the earth. 
Women stood at their doors, talking back and forth 
together in low tones. There was a spirit of ex- 
pectancy in the air. Every person he saw was 
affected by it. 

There seemed scarcely any danger of a forest fire 
sweeping in upon Sunrise Cove, or even upon The 
Corners. There was too much cleared land sur- 
rounding the town. But what was happening on 
the other side of the mountain ? The peril that other 
people were in moved his neighbours. Joseph Stagg 
was affected himself. And for another reason. 

Down in the thick woods, ten miles away, were 


266 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

two women and a child in a cabin. Suppose the fire 
should cross the range? 

The hardware merchant was striding along at a 
quick pace when he came to the Parlow place ; but he 
was not going so fast that he did not hear the car- 
penter hailing him in his cracked voice. 

“ Hey, you, Joe Stagg! Hey, you! ” 

Amazed, Mr. Stagg turned to look. Parlow was 
hobbling from the rear premises, groaning at every 
step, scarcely able to walk. 

“ That sciatica’s got me ag’in,” he snarled. “ I’m 
a’most doubled up. Couldn’t climb into a carriage 
to save my soul.” 

“ What d’you want to climb into a carriage for? ” 
demanded Mr. Stagg. 

“ ’Cause somebody’s got to go for that gal of 
mine — and little Car’lyn May. Ain’t you heard — or 
is your mind so sot on makin’ money down there to 
your store that you don’t know nothin’ else? ” 

“ Haven’t I heard what? ” returned the other with 
fine restraint, for he saw the old man was in pain. 

“ The fire’s come over to this side. I saw the 
flames myself. And Aaron Crummit drove through 
and says that you can’t git by on the main road. The 
fire’s followed the West Brook right down and is 
betwixt us and Adams’ old camp.” 

“ Bless me ! ” gasped the hardware dealer, paling 
Under his tan. 

“ Wal? ” snarled Parlow. “ Goin’ to stand there 
chatterin’ all day, or be you goin’ to do something? ” 


CHAPTER XXV 


THE FOREST FIRE 

<C O OMEBODY must get over to that cabin and 
bring them out,” Joseph Stagg said, without 
taking offence at the crabbed old carpenter. 

“ Wal! ” exclaimed Parlow, “ glad ter see you’re 
awake.” 

“ Oh, I’m awake,” the other returned shortly. 
“ I was just figuring on who’s got the best horse.” 

“ I have,” snapped Parlow. 

“ Yes. And I’d decided on taking Cherry, too,” 
the hardware dealer added, and swung into the lane 
towards the carpenter’s barn. 

“ Hey, you ! Needn’t be so brash about it,” 
growled the carpenter. “ He’s my hoss, I s’pose? ” 

Joseph Stagg went straight ahead, and without 
answering. Having once decided on his course, he 
wasted no time. 

He rolled back the big door and saw Cherry 
already harnessed in his boxstall. Mr. Parlow had 
got that far, but knew that he could not attempt 
putting the spirited creature into the shafts of the 
light buckboard that was drawn out on the barn floor. 

“ You be as easy as ye can be with him, Joe 

267 


268 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


Stagg,” groaned the carpenter, hanging to the door- 
frame. “ He’s touchy — and I don’t want him 
abused.” 

“ You’ve never driven a better horse than I have, 
Jedidiah Parlow,” snapped the hardware merchant 
as he led Cherry out of the stall. 

Together they backed the animal between the 
shafts, fastened the traces, and Mr. Stagg leaped 
quickly to the seat and gathered up the reins. 

“ You’ll hafter take the Fallow Road,” the car- 
penter shouted after him. “ And have a care drivin’ 
Cherry ” 

Horse and buckboard whirled out of the yard and 
his voice was lost to the hardware merchant. The 
latter looked neither to the right nor the left as he 
drove through The Corners. On the store porch a 
dozen idle men were congregated, but he had no time 
for them. He did not even stop to warn Aunty Rose. 

Cherry stepped out splendidly, and they left a 
cloud of dust behind them as they rolled up the pike, 
not in the direction of the abandoned camp. Fore- 
warned, he did not seek to take the shortest way to 
the cabin where Amanda Parlow and Carolyn May 
were perhaps even now threatened by the forest fire. 
The Fallow Road turned north from the pike three 
miles from The Corners. 

Flecks of foam began to appear on Cherry’s 
glossy coat almost at once. The air was very oppres- 
sive, and there was no breeze. 

This last fact Mr. Stagg considered a blessing. 


THE FOREST FIRE 269 

With no movement of the air, the fire could not 
spread rapidly. 

The streak of flame that had followed down 
the banks of West Brook moved mysteriously. 
He could see the smoke of it now, hanging in a thick 
cloud above the ravine through which the water- 
course flowed. He was tempted to believe that this 
was a fire set on this side of the mountain ridge. 
Yet Parlow had said he had seen the flames when 
the fire crossed the summit. 

The sweating horse kept up his unbroken stride, 
and the buckboard — a frail-looking, but strongly 
built, vehicle— bounded over the rough road at a 
pace to distract one unused to such riding. But 
Joseph Stagg cared nothing for the jolting. His 
thought was wholly fixed on the fire and on those 
who might be imperiled by it. 

Amanda Parlow and his niece might even now be 
threatened by the flames! The thought shook the 
hardware dealer to his depths. 

He was not a demonstrative man, that was true. 
His strongest feelings he hid away in his heart; and 
the world at large — even those nearest to him — sus- 
pected little of the emotions that seethed in Joseph 
Stagg’s heart and brain. 

Towards Carolyn May he had finally shown some- 
thing of this deeper feeling. She had fairly forced 
him to do this. 

And his very soul hungered for Amanda Parlow. 
But she was denied to him, and he shrank, as a man 


270 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

with a raw wound shrinks from unskilful touch, from 
letting anybody suspect his feeling for the carpenter’s 
daughter. 

Of late, since Amanda had spoken to him, since 
the day when Caroline May and Chet Gormley had 
been lost out on the ice and the nurse had so cour- 
ageously rung the chapel bell, Joseph Stagg’s mind 
had been less on business than at any time in twenty 
years. 

He thought of Amanda Parlow. He saw her 
while bending over the big ledger in the back office. 
In his memory rang the low, mellow tones of her 
voice. He even heard her laugh, although it had 
been a score of years since he had actually been 
within sound of her laughter. 

Now that danger threatened the woman he had 
loved all these years, it seemed as though his mind 
and heart were numbed. He was terrified beyond 
expression — terrified for her safety, and terrified for 
fear that somebody, even Jedidiah Parlow, should 
suspect just how he felt about it. 

From the very first instant he had known the dan- 
ger of the women and the child, Joseph Stagg had 
determined to get to them and save them. The 
barrier of the fire itself should not keep him back. 

The stillness and oppressiveness of the atmos- 
phere finally made an impression on his mind. He 
noted that already the animal life of the forest 
seemed to have taken fright and to have escaped. 
Not a rabbit, not a squirrel, was in evidence. A 


THE FOREST FIRE 


271 

single jay winged his way through the wood, shriek- 
ing discordantly. Although it was the height of the 
mating season, the song birds were dumb. 

The smoke grew heavier as he pushed on. It was 
sharp in his nostrils, and his breathing became 
laboured. 

Cherry showed that he felt the stifling atmos- 
phere, too. He tossed his proud head and snorted. 
Long strings of froth dripped from his bit, and his 
whole body had turned dark with sweat. Mr. Par- 
low might have felt doubtful of the horse’s well- 
being had he seen Cherry now. 

The hardware dealer drove straight on. He 
looked out for the horse’s pace, for he was a careful 
driver, but he was out for no pleasure jaunt. There 
was work for the horse to do. 

Joseph Stagg knew the country hereabout per- 
fectly. From boyhood he had hunted, fished, and 
tramped all over the township. He was still five 
miles from the camp, approaching it by a roundabout 
way. 

The horse’s hoofs rang sharply over the stony 
path. Presently they capped a little ridge and started 
down into a hollow. Not until they were over the 
ridge was Mr. Stagg aware that the hollow was 
filled, chokingly filled, with billowy white smoke. 

There was, too, a crackling sound in the air. 
V-points of red and yellow flame suddenly flecked 
the bole of a tall, dead pine beside the path, and 
right ahead. 


272 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

Another man — one as cautious as the hardware 
merchant notoriously was — would have pulled the 
horse down to a walk. But Joseph Stagg’s cautious- 
ness had been flung to the winds. Instead, he 
shouted to Cherry, and the beast increased his stride. 

The man knew that hollow well. At the bottom 
flowed Codler’s Creek, a larger stream than West 
Brook. Indeed, West Brook joined its waters with 
Codler’s Creek. The fire must have come into this 
cut, too. Then, in all probability, a couple of thou- 
sand acres of standing timber were afire on this side 
of the mountain ! 

Ten rods further on the horse snorted, stumbled, 
and tried to stop. A writhing, flaming snake — a 
burning branch — plunged down through the smoke 
directly ahead. 

“Go on! ” shouted Joseph Stagg, with a sharp- 
ness that would ordinarily have set Cherry off at 
a gallop. 

But, as the snorting creature still shied, the man 
seized the whip and lashed poor Cherry cruelly along 
his flank. 

At that the horse went mad. He plunged for- 
ward, leaped the blazing brand, and galloped down 
the road at a perilous gait. The man tried neither 
to soothe him nor to retard the pace. 

The smoke swirled around them. The driver 
could not see ten feet beyond the horse’s nose. If a 
tree should fall across the track, disaster was certain. 

But this catastrophe did not occur. Within a few 


THE FOREST FIRE 


273 

furlongs, however, flames danced ahead on either 
side of the road. 

“The bridge! ” gasped Joseph Stagg. 

The bridge over the creek was a wooden structure 
with a rustic railing on either hand. Flames had 
seized upon this and were streaming up from the 
rails. 

It was fortunate that there was so little wind. 
The flames were perpendicular and rose, as Joseph 
Stagg sat in the buckboard, higher than his head. 

The man leaned forward and once more laid the 
whip along Cherry’s flank. Later, Mr. Parlow was 
destined to mark both those welts and to vow that 
“ Joseph Stagg did not know how to treat a horse ! ” 

Now, however, there was no thought in Joseph 
Stagg’s mind regarding what Mr. Parlow might say 
or think. He had to get over that blazing bridge ! 

Cherry took the platform in great leaps. The 
bridge swung, sank, fire spurted through the planks 
almost under the horse’s heels, and then, just as the 
wheels left the shaking structure, the rear end of 
the bridge slipped off the abutments. The fire must 
have been eating out the heart of the timbers for two 
hours. 

Cherry ran madly. The smoke, the smarting of 
several small burns, the loud crash of the falling 
bridge maddened the horse to such a degree that 
Joseph Stagg could scarcely hold him. Ten minutes 
later they rattled down into the straight road, and 
then, very soon, indeed, were at the abandoned camp. 


274 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

The fire was near, but it had not reached this 
place. There was no sign of life about. 

The man knew which was Judy’s cabin. He 
leaped from the vehicle, leaving the panting Cherry 
unhitched, and ran to the hut. 

The door swung open. The poor furniture was 
in place. Even the bedclothing was rumpled in the 
old woman’s bunk. But neither she nor Amanda 
Parlow nor little Carolyn May was there. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


THE LAUREL TO THE BRAVE 

T HE heart of the man was like a weight in his 
bosom. With so many hundred acres of 
forest on fire, and that, too, between the 
abandoned camp and The Corners and Sunrise Cove, 
how would Amanda Parlow and Carolyn May know 
where to go? 

In what direction would they run? There was no 
stream of any size near this camp. Water had been 
obtained from easily driven wells. Mr. Stagg could 
not imagine in that first few minutes of alarm how 
the fugitives could have got away from the camp. 

Smoke hung in a heavy cloud over the clearing. 
The smell of burning wood was very strong. 

To go was, perhaps, the wisest thing Amanda and 
her charges could have done, for once the fire got 
into this opening the place would soon become a rag- 
ing furnace. 

The great heaps of sawdust and rubbish, as dry 
as tinder, offered fuel for the flames unsurpassed 
elsewhere in the forest. This clearing, three or four 
acres in extent, would be the hottest part of the fire, 
if once the wind rose and blew the conflagration in 
275 


2 76 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

its direction. Mr. Stagg climbed to the roof of the 
cabin to look over the open space. He shouted at 
the top of his voice. But he neither saw nor heard 
anything. His voice came back in a flat echo from 
the forest wall across the clearing — that was all. 

There was no way of trailing the fugitives — he 
knew that well enough. Of course, there were plenty 
of cartwheel tracks ; but they told nothing of interest 
to the troubled hardware dealer. 

He slid down from the roof and went again into 
the cabin. Certainly the place must have been de- 
serted in haste. There was Carolyn May’s coat. 
The man caught it up and stared around, as though 
expecting the child to be within sight. 

The old woman’s clothing was scattered about, 
too. It did not look as though anything had been 
removed from the hut. Coming out, he found an- 
other article on the threshold — one of Amanda’s 
gloves. 

Joseph Stagg picked it up eagerly and stood for a 
moment or two holding it in his hand as he gazed 
from the doorway upon the empty prospect. Then 
he lifted the crumpled glove to his lips. 

“ Oh, God, spare her! ” he burst forth. “ Spare 
them both ! ” 

Then he kissed the glove again and hid it away in 
the inner pocket of his vest. 

The hardware dealer tried to think of just what 
the fugitives might have done when they escaped 
from the cabin. Surely, they would not start for 


THE LAUREL TO THE BRAVE 277 

The Corners by the main road — that would take 
them directly towards the fire. Joseph Stagg had 
too good an opinion of Amanda Parlow’s common 
sense to believe that. 

And what would they do with the sick woman — 
how take her with them? She was crippled and 
could travel neither far nor fast. 

This disappearance suggested to the man’s mind 
one certain fact: Something had already happened 
to the fugitives; some accident had befallen them. 

The thought almost overpowered him. He was 
chilled to the heart. Despair made him helpless for 
the moment. He could think of nothing further to 
do. He seemed to have come to an impassable 
barrier. 

The sight of poor Cherry, standing with heaving 
sides and hanging head, awoke him. He started 
into action once more and hurried to the horse. Tak- 
ing him out of the harness, he rubbed him down with 
a coarse sack. Then he found a pail at the cabin 
and brought the animal a drink. Once more he put 
him back into the shafts and prepared to move on. 

If it were true that Amanda would not run to- 
wards the fire, then she more than likely had taken 
the opposite direction on leaving the cabin. There- 
fore, Joseph Stagg went that way — setting off down 
the tote road, leading Cherry by his bridle. 

Suddenly he remembered calling Prince the day 
Carolyn May had been lost on the ice. He raised 
his voice in a mighty shout for the dog now. 


27 8 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

“ Prince ! Princey, old boy ! where are you ? ” 

Again and again he called, but there was no reply. 
The smoke was more stifling and the heat more in- 
tense every minute. As he reached the far edge of 
the clearing he looked back to see a huge tree break 
into flame on the opposite side of the open space. 

The camp would soon be a furnace of flame ! 

Joseph Stagg was not fearful for himself. He 
knew a dozen paths out of this part of the forest. 
But he could not leave without finding the fugitives 
or learning the way of their departure. 

The forest here was like a jungle on both sides of 
the tote road. Once let the fire get into it, it would 
burn with the intense heat of a blast furnace. Mr. 
Stagg realised that he must get out quickly if he 
would save himself and the horse. 

He had just stepped into the buckboard again, 
when there was an excited scrambling in the under- 
brush, and a welcoming bark was given. 

“ Prince ! Good boy! ” the man shouted. “ Where 
are they? ” 

The excited dog flew at him, leaping on the buck- 
board so as to reach him. The mongrel was de- 
lighted, and showed it as plainly as a dumb brute 
could. 

But he was anxious, too. He leaped back to the 
ground, ran a little ahead, and then looked back to 
see if the man was following. The hardware dealer 
shouted to him again: 

“ Go ahead, Princey! We’re coming! ” 


THE LAUREL TO THE BRAVE 279 

He picked up the reins and Cherry started. The 
dog, barking his satisfaction, ran on ahead and 
struck into a side path which led down a glade. 
Joseph Stdgg knew immediately where this path led 
to. There was a spring and a small morass in the 
bottom of the hollow. 

“ Bless me ! ” he thought, “ once this fire gets to 
going, the heat will lick up that spring in a 
mouthful.” 

He forced Cherry into the path. It was some- 
what difficult to push through with the buckboard. 
Prince still barked, running ahead. 

“ Go on ! Good dog! ” cried Mr. Stagg. “ Lead 
the way to Hannah’s Car’lyn! ” 

He heard the little girl screaming : “ Oh, Uncle 
Joe! Oh, Uncle Joe! Here we are! ” 

Cherry rattled the buckboard down to the bottom 
of the hollow and stopped. There was some smoke 
here, but not much. The man leaped to the ground 
when he saw a figure rise up from the foot of a tree 
by the spring — a figure in brown. 

“ Joseph ! Thank God ! ” murmured Amanda. 

The hardware dealer strode to her. She had put 
out both her hands to him, and he saw that they were 
trembling, and that tears filled her great brown eyes. 

“ Oh, Joe ! ” she said, “ I feared you would come 
too late ! ” 

“ But I’m here, Mandy, and I’m not too late ! ” 
he cried; and, somehow — neither of them could, 
perhaps, have explained just how — his arms went 


28 o CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


around her and her hands rested on his shoulders, 
while she looked earnestly into his face. 

44 Oh, Joe ! Joe ! ” It was like a surrendering 
sob. 

“ It’s not too late, is it, Mandy? Say it isn’t too 
late ! ” he pleaded. 

“ No, it’s not too late,” she whispered. 44 If — if 
we’re not too old.” 

“ Old! ” almost shouted Joseph Stagg. 14 1 don’t 
remember of ever feeling so young as I do right 
now!” and suddenly he stooped and kissed her. 
44 Bless me ! what fools we’ve been all this time ! ” 

44 Oh, Uncle Joe ! Oh, Miss Amanda ! ” cried 
Carolyn May, standing before them, and pointing 
with a rather grimy index finger. 44 You aren’t mad 
at each other any more, are you? Oh, I am so 
glad ! so glad ! ” and her face showed her pleasure. 

But the situation was too difficult to allow of 
much but practical thoughts. 

44 Where’s the old woman? ” asked Joseph Stagg 
quickly. 

44 Her husband came with a horse and buggy late 
last night and took her over to the new camp,” was 
the reply. 44 Of course, there was not room for Caro- 
lyn May and me — and we did not wish to go, 
anyway. 

44 Judy is much better, poor soul, and I was glad 
to be relieved of her care. Mr. Mason warned me 
there was a big fire over the mountain, but I had no 
idea it would come this way.” 



“ You aren't mad /it each other 


any more, are you f" 




























































































































































THE LAUREL TO THE BRAVE 281 


“ No. And nobody else,” grumbled Mr. Stagg. 
“ But it has come — and it’s moving mighty quick 
now. How came you down here, Mandy — you and 
Hannah’s Car’lyn?” 

“ We were really badly frightened, Joe,” she 
replied, smiling up at him. “ I’m afraid I became 
panic-stricken when I saw a tall tree on fire not far 
from the camp, and we ran down here where there 
was water, leaving everything at the cabin.” 

“ But there isn’t water enough,” declared the 
man fretfully. “ That’s the trouble with this place. 
We can’t stay here.” 

“ You know best, Joe,” said Amanda Parlow, 
with a loving woman’s logic. 

“ What you’ve left at the cabin will have to stay 
there,” he said. “ We can’t go back. I tell you, the 
fire was coming into the camp when I left.” 

“ Oh, Joe, we must hurry, then! ” she murmured 
simply. 

“ We aren’t going to be burned up now, when 
Uncle Joe is here, Miss Mandy,” Carolyn May de- 
clared with confidence. “ See how nice he and Prince 
found us? Why, they are reg’lar heroes, aren’t 
they?” 

“ They are, indeed, child,” agreed the woman. 
She turned to Joseph Stagg, happiness shining in 
her eyes, and looking prettier than ever before in 
her life, he thought. 

The hollow was rapidly becoming filled with 
smoke. The man did not understand this, but it 


282 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


foreboded trouble. He turned Cherry and the buck- 
board around, and then he helped Amanda into the 
seat. 

“ Up you go, too, Car’lyn May,” he said, lifting 
the little girl into the rear of the buckboard. “ Hang 
on, there! Don’t dare fall off! ” 

“ Oh, I’ll be all right, Uncle Joe,” she declared, 
laughing gaily. Then she said to Prince. “ Don’t 
run off, Princey. You mustn’t get lost from us now, 
for the fire is coming.” 

Joseph Stagg felt very serious as he seated him- 
self by Amanda’s side and picked up the reins. The 
horse quickly retraced his steps up the hill to the tote 
road. As they came out into this broader path they 
saw the smoke pouring through it in a choking cloud. 
The road was like a tunnel through the thick forest, 
and the breeze, which was rising, drove the smoke 
on. Behind, there was a subdued murmur and 
crackling. 

“ Oh, Joe,” gasped Amanda, “ it’s coming! ” 

“ It surely is,” agreed the hardware merchant. 
“ We’re in a hot corner, my girl. But trust to 


“ Oh, I do, Joe ! ” she exclaimed, squeezing his 
arm. “ I am sure you know what is best to do.” 

“ I’ll try to prove that so,” he said with a sub- 
dued chuckle. 

“ Oh, Uncle Joe ! ” cried Carolyn May suddenly, 
“can’t we get out of this awful smoke? It — it 
chokes me ! ” 


THE LAUREL TO THE BRAVE 283 

“ Wait,” whispered Amanda to the man. “ I’ll 
lift her over the back of the seat. I think she had 
better be in my lap.” 

“ P’r’aps that’s so,” he agreed, and he held in the 
nervous Cherry for a moment till the change was 
accomplished. 

Poor little Carolyn May’s eyes had begun to 
water, and she complained of a pain in her chest 
from swallowing the smoke. 

“ I — I thought this was going to be an — an 
awfully exciting adventure ; but I don’t like it a bit 
now ! ” the little girl sobbed. 

Miss Amanda held her close, and Uncle Joe 
drove on as rapidly as possible. The way was rough 
and they were jolted a good deal. Prince trotted 
on behind them, his tongue out, and occasionally 
coughing; but he was better off than his human 
friends, for he was nearer the ground, where the 
smoke was not so heavy. 

There was just wind enough, and coming from 
the right direction, to drive the smoke through the 
tunnel of the wagon road. The fire itself was not 
yet near. Joseph Stagg, nevertheless, was seriously 
troubled by the situation. 

Following the direction this road led, they would 
be going farther and farther from home. And, if 
the wind increased, it was very doubtful if they could 
keep ahead of the fire for long. 

However, he did not display his knowledge of 
these troublesome facts to his companions. As for 


284 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

Amanda Parlow, she hugged the little girl tightly 
and kept up a show of cheerful spirits. 

Prince whined and yapped pleadingly, and the 
man stopped for a moment to let the dog leap to 
the rear of the buckboard, where he crouched, 
panting. 

It would not be wise for them to halt often, nor 
for long. The wind, although steady, was rising. 
The roaring of the fire grew louder and louder in 
their ears. 

Suddenly Joseph Stagg dragged Cherry’s head 
around. The horse snorted and hesitated, for the 
smoke was blinding him. 

“ I pretty near missed these forks ! ” exclaimed 
the hardware merchant. “ This left road takes us 
towards the lake.” 

“ Oh, Joe, can we reach it? ” whispered Amanda. 

“We’ve got to!” he returned grimly. “It’s 
three miles, if it’s an inch, but Cherry has got to 
make it.” 

They were relieved after a minute or two in this 
new road. The smoke had not so completely filled 
it. But it was a rougher way, and the buckboard 
bounced until Carolyn May cried out in fear and 
the mongrel whined and sprawled all over the rear 
platform. 

“ You want to hang on, dog, with teeth and toe- 
nails,” said Joseph Stagg grimly. “ We can’t stop 
for you if you fall off.” 

Prince seemed to know that, for never did animal 


THE LAUREL TO THE BRAVE 285 

cling more faithfully to an uneasy situation. Once 
or twice he came near to being pitched clear of the 
wagon body. 

They drove over a little hillock that raised them 
higher than the tote road had done. Amanda 
clutched Mr. Stagg’s arm again and uttered a half- 
stifled “Oh!” 

He shot a glance to the left. A mass of flame 
broke out in the wood not far off this trail — the top 
of a great tree was on fire. 

“ The wind is carrying brands this way,” muttered 
the man. “ A dozen new fires will be started. Well, 
gid-ap, Cherry! ” and he seized the whip again. 

The horse was well spent now, but he was plucky. 
He tried to increase his stride. A hot breath of 
wind came rushing through the forest, bending the 
branches and shaking the leafy foliage. The wind 
seemed fairly to scorch the fugitives. 

Carolyn May had hidden her face on Miss 
Amanda’s shoulder and was sobbing quietly. Both 
of her human companions were painfully aware that 
breathing the smoke-filled air was hurting them. 

Mr. Stagg hurried the labouring horse on as 
rapidly as he dared. Cherry coughed every few 
steps; the man did not want to bring the horse to his 
knees. Their very lives depended on the animal. 

The roaring of the fire increased. Through the 
more open woods which bordered this path they saw 
the smoke advancing in a thicker wall — and one as 
high as the tree tops. Through the curtain of this 


286 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


smoke cloud red tongues of flame leaped forward to 
lick up hungrily patches of underbrush or to fasten 
on certain trees. 

“ You’ve got to make it, old boy,” muttered 
Joseph Stagg, and he lashed the horse again. 

The spirited Cherry leaped forward, both the 
woman and the child screaming. 

“ Hang on,” advised Mr. Stagg. “ The road 
makes a turn just ahead, and that’s m.ghty lucky 
for us.” 

For he knew that the fire was roaring down to- 
ward them, the wind having risen to a gale. The 
crash of falling trees and the snapping of the fire 
was like the sound from a battlefront. The noise 
was almost deafening. 

“Is it far? Is it far?” gasped Amanda in his 
ear. 

“ Too far for comfort. But keep your heart up.” 

As the man spoke, a blazing brand swung through 
the air and came down, right on Amanda’s shoulders. 
Carolyn May shrieked. Joseph Stagg brushed off 
the burning stick. 

Cherry mounted another small ridge and then 
they clattered down into a little hollow where there 
was a slough beside the road. The water was green 
and stagnant, but it was water. 

The man pulled in the hard-pressed horse and 
leaped down, passing the reins to Amanda. He 
whipped off his coat and dipped it in the mudhole. 
He drew it out dripping with water and slime. 


THE LAUREL TO THE BRAVE 287 

“ Look out, here ! Have to shut your eyes ! ” he 
warned his two companions on the seat of the buck- 
board, and threw the saturated coat over Miss 
Amanda’s head. The dripping garment sheltered 
Carolyn May as well. 

“ Now, good horse ! ” he yelled to Cherry, leap- 
ing back to the seat. u Gid-ap! ” 

The horse started up the slope. Another swirling 
brand came down upon them. Joseph Stagg fought 
it off with his bare hand. His shirt sleeve caught 
fire and he was painfully burned on the forearm 
before he could smother the blaze. 

It was growing so hot now that the leaves on the 
trees curled and were blasted before the flames actu- 
ally reached them. Behind the fleeing buckboard the 
conflagration was on both sides of the narrow path. 
They were barely keeping ahead of the enemy. 

Another flaming brand fell, landing on Cherry’s 
back. The horse squealed and leaped forward at 
a pace which Mr. Stagg could not control. Mad- 
dened by the burn, Cherry had taken the bit in his 
teeth and was running away. 

The man threw down the reins. He could do 
nothing towards retarding the frightened horse’s 
pace. Indeed, he did not want to stop him. 

His left arm he flung around Miss Amanda and 
the child, and with his right hand clung to the rock- 
ing seat of the careening buckboard. 

The wet steaming coat saved the woman and the 
child from injury. More than one brand settled on 


288 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 


it, and the garment only smoked. But Joseph Stagg 
was painfully burned. 

On and on dashed the maddened horse. It was a 
mercy, indeed, that the buckboard was not over- 
turned. 

Sparks rose from burning brush clumps and flew 
over them in a shower. Prince yelped and whined 
pitifully, but, like Mr. Stagg, he hung on. 

The burning and smouldering brands showered 
upon them. Bushes broke out into flame in advance, 
and on either side of the path. It was as though the 
combustion was spontaneous. 

With a roaring like the charge of a field of artil- 
lery, a great mass of flame flew high over their 
heads. The tall trees were on fire on all sides. 
They were in the heart of the conflagration ! 

Joseph Stagg had lost all count of time. The for- 
est road might still extend ahead of them for a mile, 
for all he knew. 

But suddenly they broke cover, Cherry still gal- 
loping wildly, and plunged down an open ravine to 
the edge of a lake of sparkling water. 

u Bless me ! The lake ! the lake ! ” hoarsely 
shouted the man. 

The walls of the ravine sheltered them from 
smoke and fire for a moment, but the brands still 
fell. Cherry had halted on the edge of the lake, but 
Joseph Stagg urged him on into the water, flank 
deep. The shore was narrow and afforded little 
space for refuge. He lifted Amanda and the child 


THE LAUREL TO THE BRAVE 289 

bodily from the seat and dropped them into the 
water. 

“ We’re safe now,” he said hoarsely, jumping in 
himself, and holding Carolyn May and Amanda. 
“We’ve got water enough here, thanks be! Hang 
on to me, Mandy. I’m not going to let you get 
away — no more, never ! ” 

And by the way in which the woman clung to his 
arm it was evident that she did not propose to lose 
him. 

They looked back at the roaring wall of flame. 
The forest was a seething furnace. Smoke drifted 
out over the lake in a heavy cloud. Dead embers 
showered about them. Prince rolled and burrowed 
in the damp sand at the edge of the water. Cherry 
filled his throat with a long, cool, satisfying draught. 

“ My, Uncle Joe ! you are just the bravest man! ” 
declared Carolyn May, finding her voice. “ Isn’t 
he, Miss Mandy? And, see, his arm is all burned. 
Dear me, we must get home to Aunty Rose and let 
her do it up for him.” 


CHAPTER XXVII 


“two’s company” 

T OWARDS the east the forest tract was com- 
pletely burned to the banks of Codler’s Creek. 
As the wind which had sprung up had driven 
the fire westward, there was little danger of the 
flames pressing nearer .than the creek to Sunrise Cove 
and The Corners. 

Joseph Stagg led the horse out of the water and 
advised Miss Amanda and Carolyn May to get into 
the seat of the buckboard again. Then he set 
forth, leading the horse along the narrow beach, 
while Prince followed wearily in the rear. 

It was a rough route they followed, but the black- 
ened forest was still too hot for them to pass 
through, had they been able to find a path. This 
was a lonely strip of shore and they saw no living 
soul but themselves. 

Some trees were still smouldering along the creek 
banks. They could see these fires when they crossed 
the mouth of the stream, for the dusk had fallen 
and the flames sparkled like fireflies. 

It was a long tramp, and the horse, the dog, and 
the man were alike wearied. Carolyn May went 
290 


TWO’S COMPANY 


fast asleep with her head pillowed in Miss Amanda’s 
lap. 

The latter and Joseph Stagg talked much. Indeed, 
there was much for them to say after all these years 
of silence. 

The woman, worn and scorched of face, looked 
down on the smutted and sweating man with an ex- 
pression in her eyes that warmed him to the mar- 
row. She was proud of him. And the gaze of love 
and longing that the hardware merchant turned upon 
Amanda Parlow would have amazed those people 
that believed he had consideration and thought only 
for business. 

In these few hours of alarm and close intimacy 
the man and the woman had leaped all the barriers 
time and pride had set up. Nothing further could 
keep Joseph Stagg and Amanda Parlow apart. And 
yet they never for one instant discussed the original 
cause of their estrangement. That was a dead 
issue. 

The refugees reached The Corners about nine 
o’clock. Jedidiah Parlow had hobbled up to the 
store and was just then organising a party of search- 
ers to go to the rescue of the hardware dealer and 
those of whom he had set out in search. 

The village turned out en masse to welcome the 
trio who had so miraculously escaped the fire. 
Aunty Rose’s relief knew no bounds. Mr. Parlow 
was undeniably glad to see his daughter safe; other- 
wise, he would never have overlooked the pitiable 


292 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

state his horse was in. Poor Cherry would never 
be the same unblemished animal again. 

“ Well, I vum! ” he said to Joseph Stagg, “ you 
done it ! Better’n I could, too, I reckon. I’ll take 
the hoss home. You cornin’ with me, Mandy?” 
Then he saw the burns on the younger man’s shoul- 
ders and arms. u The good land of Jehoshaphat! 
here’s work for you to do, Mandy. If you air any 
sort of a nurse, I reckon you got your hands full right 
here with Joe Stagg,” he added, with some pride in 
his daughter’s ability. “ Phew ! them’s bad-lookin’ 
burns ! ” 

“ They are indeed,” agreed Aunty Rose. 

It was a fact that Mr. Stagg was in a bad state. 
Carolyn May had suggested that Aunty Rose would 
dress his burns, but Miss Amanda would allow no- 
body to do that but herself. 

When the curious and sympathetic neighbours had 
gone and Miss Amanda was still busy making Joseph 
Stagg comfortable in the sitting-room, Aunty Rose 
came out into the kitchen, where she had already 
bathed and helped Carolyn May to undress, and 
where the little girl was now sleepily eating her sup- 
per of bread and milk. 

“ Well, wonders don’t ever cease, I guess,” she 
said, more to herself than to her little confidant. 
“ Who’d have thought it! ” 

“ Who’d have thought what, Aunty Rose?” in- 
quired Carolyn May. 

“ Your uncle and Mandy Parlow have made it 


TWO’S COMPANY 


up,” breathed the woman, evidently much impressed 
by the wonder of it. 

“ Yes, indeed! ” cried the child. “ Isn’t it nice? 
They aren’t mad at each other any more.” 

“ No, I should say they’re not,” Aunty Rose ob- 
served with grimness. “ Far from it. It’s a fact! I 
wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with 
my own eyes. They haven’t got eyes for anybody 
but each other.” 

“Oh! Haven’t they, Aunty Rose?” queried 
Carolyn May with sudden earnestness. 

“ I should say not, child ! Holding hands in there 
like a pair of — Well, do you know what it means, 
Carolyn May?” 

“ That they love each other,” the child said 
boldly. “ And I’m so glad for them! ” 

“ So am I,” declared the woman, still in a whis- 
per. u But it means changes here. Things won’t 
be the same for long. I know Joseph Stagg for 
what he is.” 

“ What is he, Aunty Rose? ” asked Carolyn May 
in some trepidation, for the housekeeper seemed to 
be much moved. 

“ He’s a very determined man. Once he gets set 
in a way, he carries everything before him. Mandy 
Parlow is going to be made Mrs. Joseph Stagg so 
quick that it’ll astonish her. Now, you believe me, 
Carolyn May.” 

“ Oh ! ” was the little girl’s comment. 

“ There’ll be changes here very sudden. ‘ Two’s 


294 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

company, three’s a crowd,’ Carolyn May. Never 
was a truer saying. Those two will want just each 
other — and nobody else.” 

u Oh, Aunty Rose ! ” murmured the little girl 
faintly. She had stopped eating the bread and milk. 
The housekeeper was too deeply interested in her 
own cogitations to notice how the child was being 
affected by her speech. 

“ I’ve told him a thousand times he should be 
married,” concluded Aunty Rose. “ And if Mandy 
Parlow’s the woman for him, then it’s all right. 
Whether she is or not, he’ll marry her. Jedidiah 
or a thousand others couldn’t stop Joseph Stagg now. 
I know what it means with him when he once makes 
up his mind. 

“ But there’ll be no room here for anybody but 
those two, with their billing and cooing. ‘ Two’s 
company, three’s a crowd.’ 

“ Well, Carolyn May, if you’ve finished your sup- 
per, we’d better go up to bed. It’s long past your 
bedtime.” 

“ Yes, Aunty Rose,” said the little girl in a muffled 
voice. 

Aunty Rose did not notice that Carolyn May did 
not venture to the door of the sitting-room to bid 
either Uncle Joe or Miss Amanda good-night. The 
child followed the woman upstairs with faltering 
steps, and in the unlighted bedroom that had been 
Hannah Stagg’s she knelt at Aunty Rose’s knee and 
murmured her usual petitions. 


TWO’S COMPANY 


295 


“ Do bless Uncle Joe and Miss Amanda, now 
they’re so happy,” was a phrase that might have 
thrilled Aunty Rose at another time. But she was 
so deep in her own thoughts that she heard what 
Carolyn May said perfunctorily. 

With her customary kiss, she left the little girl 
and went downstairs. Carolyn May had seen so 
much excitement during the day that she might have 
been expected to sleep at once, and that soundly. 
But it was not so. 

The little girl lay with wide-open eyes, her imagi- 
nation at work. 

“ Two’s company, three’s a crowd.” She took 
that trite saying, in which Aunty Rose had expressed 
her own feelings, to herself. If Uncle Joe and Miss 
Amanda were going to be married, they would not 
want anybody else around! Of course not! 

Somewhere, somehow, in listening to older people 
talk, Carolyn May had obtained the impression that 
all couples desired to be by themselves just as soon 
as they were married. They had no need nor desire 
for other people. Her idea was that the so-called 
“ honeymoon ” extended over long, long months. 

“And what will become of me?” thought Caro- 
lyn May chokingly. 

All the “ emptiness ” of the last few months swept 
over the soul of the little child in a wave that her 
natural cheerfulness could not withstand. Her an- 
chorage in the love of Uncle Joe and Miss Amanda 
was swept away. 


2 96 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

She was going to be alone again. There would be 
nobody whose right it was to care for her. With 
her mother and father drowned in a foreign sea and 
Uncle Joe utterly taken up with the “ lovely lady ” 
he loved, who was there to care for Carolyn May? 

The heart of the little child swelled. Her eyes 
overflowed. She sobbed herself to sleep, the pillow 
muffling the sounds, more forlorn than ever before 
since she had come to The Corners. 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


THE JOURNEY 

I T was certainly a fact that Amanda Parlow im- 
mediately usurped some power in the household 
of the Stagg homestead. She ordered Joseph 
Stagg not to go down to his store that next day. 
And he did not ! 

Nor could he attend to business for several days 
thereafter. He was too stiff and lame and his burns 
were too painful. 

Chet Gormley came up each day for instructions 
and was exceedingly full of business. A man would 
have to be very exacting indeed to find fault with 
the interest the boy displayed in running the store 
just as his employer desired it to be run. 

“ I tell you what it is, Car’lyn,” Chet drawled, in 
confidence. “ I’m mighty sorry Mr. Stagg got hurt 
like he did. But lemme tell you, it’s jest givin’ me 
the chance of my life ! 

“ Why, maw says that Mr. Stagg and Miss 
Mandy Parlow’ll git married for sure now! ” 

“ Oh, yes,” sighed the little girl. “ They’ll be 
married.” 

“ Well, when folks git married they alius go off 

297 


2 9 S CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

on a trip. Course, they will. And me — I’ll be run- 
nin’ the business all by myself. It’ll be great ! Mr. 
Stagg will see jest how much value I be to him. 
Why, it’ll be the makin’ of me ! ” cried the optimis- 
tic youth. 

Yes, Carolyn May heard it on all sides. Every- 
body was talking about the affair of Uncle Joe and 
Miss Amanda. 

Every time she saw her uncle and her “ pretty 
lady ” together the observant child could not but 
notice that they were utterly wrapped up in each 
other. It is only between lovers who have been 
heart-hungry for long years, as these two had, 
that a perfectly open expression of affection is main- 
tained. 

The modest spinster and the bashful bachelor 
seemed to have sloughed off their former natures. 
They had developed a new and exceedingly strange 
life, as different from their former existence as the 
butterfly’s is from the caterpillar’s. 

Miss Amanda could not go past the easy chair 
in which the hardware dealer was enthroned without 
touching him. He, as bold as a boy, would seize 
her hand and kiss it. Her soft, capable hand would 
linger on his head in so tender a gesture that it 
might have brought tears to the eyes of a sympa- 
thetic observer. 

Love, a mighty, warm, throbbing spirit, had 
caught them up and swept them away out of them- 
selves — out of their old selves, at least. They had 


THE JOURNEY 299 

eyes only for each other — thoughts only for each 
other. 

Even a child could see something of this. The 
absorption of the two made Aunty Rose’s remarks 
very impressive to Carolyn May. 

A week of this followed — a week in which the 
trouble in Carolyn May’s heart and brain seethed 
until it became unbearable. She was convinced that 
there would soon be no room for her in the big house. 
She watched Aunty Rose pack her own trunk, and the 
old lady looked very glum, indeed. She heard whis- 
pers of an immediate marriage, here in the house, 
with Mr. Driggs as the officiating clergyman. 

Everybody in the neighbourhood was interested 
in the affair and eagerly curious; but Carolyn May 
could not talk about it. They thought she had been 
instructed not to speak of the matter, but the little 
girl only felt that she would cry if she talked of this 
event that was to make her uncle and Miss Amanda 
so happy and herself so miserable. 

“ Oh, Prince ! ” she sobbed, clinging around the 
dog’s neck out under their favourite tree in the back 
yard of the Stagg place, “ nobody wants us. We 
never ought to have come here. Maybe it would 
have been better if we had gone to the poorhouse. 

“ Only, I s’pose, they wouldn’t have wanted you, 
my dear. And you are the very best friend I’ve got, 
Prince. You are! you are! You wouldn’t go off 
and get married, would you? 

“ And I want ’em to be happy, too. Of course I 


3 oo CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

do ! But — but I didn’t know it was goin’ to be like 
this. I — I wish I was back in our old home in New 
York. Don’t you wish so, Princey? 

“ There we had things that were our very own. 
Even if my mamma and papa aren’t there, it would 
be nice, I think. And Mr. and Mrs. Price would 
be kind to us — and Edna. And there’s the janitor’s 
boy — he was a real nice boy. And all the little girls 
we knew at school there. 

“ Oh ! ” cried Carolyn May, suddenly jumping up 
and dashing away her tears, “ I would just love to 
go back there. And we could, Princey! I’ve got 
more’n ten dollars in my bank, for Uncle Joe gave 
me a ten-dollar gold piece at Christmas. That’s 
more’n enough to take us back home. Oh, it is! 
it is! ” 

The child’s excitement thrilled her through and 
through. Her eyes brightened and the flush came 
into her cheeks. She knew, through Chet Gormley, 
that Mr. Stagg had never done anything with the 
furniture in the flat. Her home — just as it had been 
when her mother and father were alive — was back 
there in New York City. She had been happy at 
The Corners in a way. But it was not the happiness 
she had known in her old home. 

And now she believed that she saw great changes 
coming. Uncle Joe and Miss Amanda would be 
just as Aunty Rose had hinted — so deeply engaged 
with each other that they would have no time or 
thought for a sunny-haired and blue-eyed little girl 


30i 


THE JOURNEY 

who had brought, all unknown to herself, a new 
creed into the lives of many of the adults of The 
Corners. 

Carolyn May was not a sly child, but she was a 
secretive one. There is a difference. She had many 
thoughts in her little head that her adult friends did 
not suspect. She studied things out for herself. Be- 
ing a child, her conclusions were not always wise 
ones. 

She felt that she might be a stumbling-block to the 
complete happiness of Uncle Joe and Amanda Par- 
low. They might have to set aside their own desires 
because of her. She felt vaguely that this must 
not be. 

“ I can go home,” she repeated over and over to 
herself. 

“ Home ” was still in the New York City apart- 
ment house where she had lived so happily before 
that day when her father and mother had gone 
aboard the ill-fated Dunraven. 

Their complete loss out of the little girl’s life had 
never become fixed in her mind. It had never 
seemed a surety — not even after her talks with the 
sailor, Benjamin Hardy. 

Hardy had long since left the locality, having 
taken a berth again on one of the lake schooners. 
Nobody seemed to have much time to give to Caro- 
lyn May just at this time. Wherever she wandered 
about the neighbourhood people were talking about 
the coming wedding of Uncle Joe and Miss Amanda. 


302 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

Even Miss Minnie, at school, was quite in a flutter 
over it. 

Friday afternoon the little girl went to the church- 
yard and made neat the three little graves and the 
one long one on the plot which belonged to Aunty 
Rose Kennedy. She almost burst into tears that 
evening, too, when she kissed Aunty Rose good-night 
at bedtime. Uncle Joe was down at the Parlows. 
He and Mr. Parlow actually smoked their pipes to- 
gether in harmony on the cottage porch. 

Aunty Rose was usually an early riser; but the 
first person up at The Corners on that Saturday 
morning was Carolyn May. She was dressed a full 
hour before the household was usually astir. 

She came downstairs very softly, carrying the 
heavy bag she had brought with her the day she had 
first come to The Corners. She had her purse in her 
pocket, with all her money in it, and she had in the 
bag most of her necessary possessions. She wore a 
black dress, but not the one she had worn when she 
came from New York. That had been outgrown 
long since. 

She washed her face and hands. Her hair was 
already combed and neatly braided. From the 
pantry she secured some bread and butter, and, with 
this in her hand, unlocked the porch door and went 
out. Prince got up, yawning, and shook himself. 
She sat on the steps to eat the bread and butter, 
dividing it with Prince. 

“ This is such a beautiful place, Princey,” she 


303 


THE JOURNEY 

whispered to the mongrel. “ We are going to miss 
it dreadfully, I s’pose. But, then — Well, we’ll 
have the park. Only, you can’t run so free there.” 

Prince whined. Carolyn May got up and shook 
the crumbs from her lap. Then she unchained the 
dog and picked up her bag. Prince pranced about 
her, glad to get his morning run. 

The little girl and the dog went out of the gate 
and started along the road towards Sunrise Cove. 
Nobody seemed to be astir. She looked back and 
waved her hand at the Stagg house. She looked at 
the church, the blacksmith shop, and the store. She 
bade them all good-bye. 

Prince came to walk beside her and whined. He 
evidently could not understand her going away from 
the place so early. 

But Carolyn May knew what she was about. She 
knew all about the train that went south. It left 
Sunrise Cove station before most people were up, 
even at this time of year. 

The houses had all been asleep at The Corners. 
So was the Parlow cottage when she trudged by. 
She would have liked to see Miss Amanda, to kiss 
her just once. But she must not think of that! It 
brought such a “ gulpy ” feeling into her throat. 

Nobody saw Carolyn May and Prince until she 
reached Main Street. Then the sun had risen, and 
a few early persons were astir; but nobody appeared 
who knew the child or who cared anything about her. 

At the railroad station nobody spoke to her, for 


30 4 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

she bought no ticket. She was not exactly clear in 
her mind about tickets, anyway. She had found the 
conductor on the train coming up from New York a 
kind and pleasant man, and she decided to do all her 
business with him. 

Had she attempted to buy a ticket of the station 
agent, undoubtedly he would have made some in- 
quiry. As it was, when the train came along, Caro- 
lyn May, after seeing Prince put into the baggage 
car, climbed aboard with the help of a brakeman. 

“ Of course, if he howls awfully,” she told the 
baggageman, who gave her a check without question, 
“ I shall have to go in that car and sit with him.” 

There were not many people in the car. They 
steamed away from Sunrise Cove, and Carolyn May 
dabbled her eyes with her handkerchief and told her- 
self to be brave. 

The stations were a long way apart and the con- 
ductor did not come through for some time. When 
he did open the door and come into the car Carolyn 
May started up with a glad cry. It was the very 
conductor who had been so kind to her on the trip 
up from New York. 

The railroad man knew her at once and shook 
hands most heartily with her. 

“Where are you going, Carolyn May?” he 
asked. 

“ All the way with you, sir,” she replied. 

“ To New York?” 

“ Yes, sir. I’m going home again.” 


THE JOURNEY 305 

“ Then I’ll see you later,” he said, without asking 
for her ticket. 

The conductor remembered the little girl very 
well, although he did not remember all the details of 
her story. Nine months before she had gone up to 
Sunrise Cove with him to visit relatives. As she had 
travelled alone then, he did not think it strange that 
she was now travelling back again without any 
guardian. 

By-and-by he came back and sat down beside her. 
Carolyn May took out her purse and offered him 
money for her fare. 

“Didn’t they buy you a ticket?” he asked in 
surprise. 

“ No, sir,” she told him honestly. 

“ Well, I’ll tend to it for you. You’ll want that 
money for candy and moving-picture shows in the 
city.” 

He was very kind to her and brought her satisfy- 
ing news about Prince in the baggage car. The 
brakeman was nice, too, and brought her water to 
drink in a paper cup. And even the “ candy butcher ” 
made the journey pleasanter by his attentions. He 
once dropped a package of candy in Carolyn May’s 
lap and then forgot to pick it up again ! 

So, altogether, she had a pleasant, if tiresome, 
ride to New York City. 

At one place the brakeman brought into the car 
for her some sandwiches and a glass of milk. He 
assured her, too, that the men in the baggage car 


3 o 6 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

had divided their lunches with Prince and had given 
him water. 

She slept part of the time, and while she was 
awake there was so much going on that she could 
not feel very lonely. The excitement of travelling 
had taken that empty feeling out of her heart. 

At last, the long stretches of streets at right angles 
with the tracks appeared — asphalt streets lined with 
tall apartment houses. This could be nothing but 
New York City. Her papa had told her long ago 
that there was no other city like it in the world. 

She knew One Hundred and Twenty-fifth Street 
and its elevated station. That was not where she 
had boarded the train going north, when Mr. Price 
had placed her in the conductor’s care, but it was 
nearer her old home — that she knew. So she told 
the brakeman she wanted to get out there, and he 
arranged to have Prince released. 

The little girl alighted and got her dog without 
misadventure. She was down on the street level 
before the train continued on its journey downtown. 

At the Grand Central Terminal the conductor was 
met with a telegram sent from Sunrise Cove by a 
certain frantic hardware dealer, and that telegram 
told him something about Carolyn May of which he 
had not thought to ask. 


CHAPTER XXIX 


THE HOMING OF CAROLYN MAY 

I T was some distance from the railroad station to 
the block on which Carolyn May Cameron had 
lived all her life until she had gone to stay with 
Uncle Joe Stagg. The child knew she could not take 
the car, for the conductor would not let Prince ride. 

She started with the dog on his leash, for he was 
not muzzled. The bag became heavy very soon, but 
she staggered along with it uncomplainingly. 

Her dishevelled appearance, with the bag and the 
dog, gave people who noticed her the impression that 
Carolyn May had been away, perhaps, for a “ fresh- 
air ” vacation, and was now coming home, brown and 
weary, to her expectant family. 

But Carolyn May knew that she was coming home 
to an empty apartment — to rooms that echoed with 
her mother’s voice and in which lingered only memo- 
ries of her father’s cheery spirit. 

Yet it was the only home, she felt, that was left 
for her. 

She could not blame Uncle Joe and Miss Amanda 
for forgetting her. Aunty Rose had been quite dis- 
turbed, too, since the forest fire. She had given the 
307 


3 o8 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

little girl no hint that provision would be made for 
her future. 

Wearily, Carolyn May travelled through the 
Harlem streets, shifting, the bag from hand to hand, 
Prince pacing sedately by her side. 

“ We’re getting near home now, Princey,” she told 
him again and again. 

Thus she tried to keep her heart up. She came to 
the corner near which she had lived so long, and 
Prince suddenly sniffed at the screened door of a 
shop. 

“ Of course, poor fellow ! That’s the butcher’s,” 
Carolyn May said. 

She bought a penny afternoon paper on a news- 
stand and then went into the shop and got a nickel’s 
worth of bones and scraps for the dog. The clerk 
did not know her, for he was a new man. 

They ventured along their block. The children 
all seemed strange to Carolyn May. But people 
move so frequently in Harlem that this was not at all 
queer. She hoped to see Edna or some other little 
girl with whom she had gone to school. But not 
until she reached the very house itself did anybody 
hail her. 

“ Oh, Carolyn May! Is that you? ” 

A lame boy was looking through the iron fence 
of the areaway. He was the janitor’s son. 

“ Oh, Johnny! I’m real glad to see you! ” cried 
the little girl. Then she added more slowly : “ We — 
we’ve come home again — me and Prince.” 


THE HOMING OF CAROLYN 309 

“ You’ve growed a lot, Carolyn May,” said the 
boy. “ My pop and mom’s away.” 

“ I’ll go up into Edna’s flat, then,” the weary little 
girl sighed. 

“ The Prices have gone away, too. They won’t 
be back till to-morrow some time.” 

“ Oh ! ” murmured Carolyn May. 

“ But, say, I can get the keys to your flat. The 
water’s turned on, too. Everything’s all right up 
there, for Mrs. Price she sweeps and dusts it all 
every once in a while. Shall I get the keys? ” 

u Oh, if you will, please ! ” returned the relieved 
child. 

The boy hobbled away, but soon returned with 
the outer-door key and the key to the apartment 
itself. Carolyn May took them and thanked him. 
Then she gladly went in and climbed the two flights 
to their floor. 

She saw nobody, and easily let herself into the flat. 
It had been recently aired and dusted. Every piece 
of furniture stood just as she remembered it. 

“ Oh, Princey, it’s home! ” she whispered. “ This 
is our real, real home ! I — I loved ’em all at The 
Corners; but it wasn’t like this there! ” 

Prince perhaps agreed, but he was too deeply in- 
terested in snuffing at the package of meat scraps she 
had purchased for his supper to reply. 

“ Well, well, Prince,” she said, “ you shall have 
it at once.” 

Dropping the bag in the private hall, she went into 


3 io CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

the kitchen and stood on tiptoe to open the door of 
the closet above the dresser. Securing a plate, she 
emptied the contents of the paper into it, and set the 
plate down on the floor. 

In spreading out the paper she saw some big-type 
headlines on the front page : 

ROMANCE OF THE GREAT WAR 

The Experiences of This Newspaper Man like 
Those of a Character in a Novel — Lost for Eight 
Months in the Desert — At the Mercy of Semi- 
savage Tribes , Man and Wife Escape at Last to 
Return in Safety and Health. 

His Story Told to Beacon Reporter at Quarantine. 

Carolyn May read no further. It did not particu- 
larly interest a little girl. Besides, she was very 
tired — too tired to think of her own supper. Had 
she read on, however, even her simple mind might 
have been startled by the following paragraphs 
printed below the heading of this startling story : 

“ Their wonderful good fortune in escaping from 
the disaster that overtook the steamer on which they 
travelled and which was caught between the gunfire 
of a French battleship and two of a Turkish squad- 
ron can only be equalled by the chance which fol- 
lowed. Naturally, as a journalist himself, Mr. Cam- 
eron is prepared to tell the details of his remarkable 
adventure in the columns of the Beacon at a later 
date. 


THE HOMING OF CAROLYN 31 1 

“ The boat in which they left the sinking Dun- 
raven was separated in the night and fog from that 
of the other refugees and was carried by the current 
far to the south. In fact, they were enveloped by 
fog until they landed upon a stretch of deserted 
beach. 

“ There was no town near, nor even an encamp- 
ment of Arabs. But soon after their disembarkation 
and before the officer in command could take means 
to communicate with any civilised, or semi-civilised, 
place a party of mounted and armed tribesmen 
swooped down on the castaways. 

“ These people, being Mohammedans, and having 
seen the battle the day before between the French 
and the Turks, considered the castaways enei *es 
and swept them away with them into the desert to a 
certain oasis, where for nearly eight months Mr. 
John Lewis Cameron and his wife and the other 
refugees from the Dunraven were kept without being 
allowed to communicate with their friends. 

“ Mr. Cameron was on furlough from his paper 
because of ill-health. At the beginning of his cap- 
tivity he was in a very bad way, indeed, it is said. 
But the months in the hot, dry atmosphere of the 
desert have made a new man of him, and he person- 
ally cannot hold much rancour against the Moham- 
medan tribe that held him a prisoner.” 

There was more of the wonderful story, but the 
sleepy little girl had given it no attention whatsoever. 
Prince had eaten and lain down in his familiar cor- 
ner. The little girl had gone softly into her own 
room and made up her bed as she had seen her 
mother and Mrs. Price make it. 


312 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

Then she turned on the water in the bathtub and 
took a bath. It was delightful to have a real tub 
instead of the galvanised bucket they used at Uncle 
Joe’s. 

She put on her nightgown at last, knelt and said 
her prayer, including that petition she had never left 
out of it since that first night she had knelt at Aunty 
Rose’s knee : 

“ God bless my papa and mamma and bring them 
safe home.” 

The faith that moves mountains was in that 
prayer. 


CHAPTER XXX 


THE HOUSE OF BEWILDERMENT 

C AROLYN MAY slept the sleep of the 
wearied, if not of the carefree. The noises 
of the street did not disturb her, not even the 
passing of the fire-department trucks some time after 
midnight. 

Nor did nearer sounds arouse her. She had no 
knowledge of the fact that a procession of A.D.T. 
boys and messengers from the railroad company 
came to ring the bell of the Prices’ apartment. Later 
the janitor’s family was aroused, but the little lame 
boy thought it would be better for him to say nothing 
about having seen Carolyn May and of having given 
her the keys. 

So when, in the early morning, a taxicab stopped 
at the street door and a bushy-haired, troubled-look- 
ing man got out and helped a woman clad in brown 
to the sidewalk, the janitor had no knowledge of the 
fact that Carolyn May and Prince were upstairs in 
the apartment that had been so long empty. 

“ And the Prices are away,” said Uncle Joe in a 
troubled voice. “ What do you think of that, 
Mandy ? ” 


313 


3 i4 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

“ Oh, Toe ! where could the dear child have 
gone?” 

“ I haven’t seen her,” declared the janitor. “ But 
I can let you into the flat. There’s been lots of tele- 
grams to Mr. Price in the night — and they weren’t 
all yours. You’re Carolyn May’s uncle, ain’t you? ” 
he asked Mr. Stagg. 

Uncle Joe acknowledged the relationship. “ Let’s 
go upstairs,” he said to Amanda. “ Now that I’m 
here ” 

“ Oh, dear, Joe! ” almost wept Amanda, “ could 
anything have happened to her in this big city? ” 

“ ’Most anything, I s’pose,” growled Joseph 
Stagg, following close on the janitor’s heels. 

The janitor’s passkey grating in the lock of the 
private hall door started something that none of 
them expected. A startling bark echoed in the rooms 
which were supposed to be empty. 

“ Whatever is that? ” gasped the janitor. 

“ It’s Prince! It’s her dog! ” shouted Uncle Joe. 

“ The child is here ! ” cried Amanda Parlow, and 
she was the first to enter the apartment. 

Prince bounded wildly to meet her. He leaped 
and barked. A cry sounded from a room beyond. 
Miss Amanda and Uncle Joe rushed in. 

Sleepily, her face flushed, rubbing her blue eyes 
wide open, Carolyn May sat up in bed. 

“ Oh, Uncle Joe ! Oh, Miss Amanda ! ” she said. 
“ I — I was just dreaming my own papa and mamma 
had come home and found me here.” 


THE HOUSE OF BEWILDERMENT 315 

“ My dear ! My dear! ” sobbed Amanda Parlow, 
dropping to her knees beside the bed. 

“ You’re a great young one ! ” growled Uncle Joe, 
blowing his nose suspiciously. “ You’ve nigh about 
scared ev’rybody to death. Your Aunty Rose is 
almost crazy.” 

“ Oh — I’m — sorry,” stammered Carolyn May. 
“ But — you — see — Uncle Joe ! you and Miss 
Amanda are going to be happy now. Aunty Rose 
says ‘ two is comp’ny.’ So you wouldn’t have room 
for me.” 

“Bless me!” gasped the hardware dealer. 
“ What do you know about this child’s feeling that 
way, Mandy? ” 

“ I am afraid we have been selfish, Joe,” the 
woman said, sighing. “ And that is something that 
Carolyn May has never been in her life ! ” 

“ I dunno — I dunno,” said Uncle Joe ruefully, and 
looking at the little, flowerlike face of the child. 
“ How about Aunty Rose? How d’you s’pose she 
feels about Hannah’s Car’lyn running away? ” 

“ Oh ! ” ejaculated the little girl. 

“ It may be that ‘ two’s company and three’s a 
crowd,’ but you and Aunty Rose would be two like- 
wise, wouldn’t you, Car’lyn May? ” 

“ I — I never thought of that, Uncle Joe,” the child 
whispered. 

“ Why, your running away from The Corners this 
way is like to make both Mandy and me unhappy, as 
well as Aunty Rose. I — I don’t b’lieve Mandy could 


3 i 6 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

get married at all if she didn’t have a little girl like 
you to carry flowers and hold up her train. How 
about it, Mandy? ” 

“ That is quite true, Carolyn May,” declared Miss 
Amanda, hugging the soft little body of the child 
tightly again. 

“ Why, I— I ” 

Carolyn May was, for once, beyond verbal ex- 
pression. Besides, there was a noise in the outer hall 
and on the stairway. The door had been left open 
by the surprised janitor. 

A burst of voices came into the apartment. Uncle 
Joe turned wonderingly. Miss Amanda stood up. 
Carolyn May flew out of bed with a shriek that 
startled them both. 

“My papa! My mamma! I hear them! They’re 
not drownd-ed ! God didn’t let ’em be lost at sea ! ” 

She was out of the room in her nightgown, patter- 
ing in bare feet over the floor. A brown man, with 
a beard and twinkling blue eyes, caught her up in 
strong arms and hugged her swiftly — safely — to his 
breast. 

“ Snuggy! ” he said chokingly. “ Papa’s Snuggy! ” 

“My baby! My baby!” cried the woman at 
whom Joseph Stagg was staring as though he be- 
lieved her to be the ghost of his lost sister Hannah. 

It was several hours later before there was a 
really sane thing said or a sane thing done in that 
little Harlem flat. 

“It’s like a lovely fairy story!” cried Carolyn 


THE HOUSE OF BEWILDERMENT 317 

May. “ Only it’s better than a fairy story — it’s 
real! ” 

“ Yes, yes, it’s real, thank God! ” murmured the 
happy mother. 

“ And I’m never going away from my little girl 
again,” added the father, kissing her for at least the 
tenth time. 

“ But what Aunty Rose is going to do, I don’t 
see,” said Uncle Joe, shaking his head with real com- 
miseration. “ I’ve sent her a despatch saying that 
the child is safe. But if we go back without Han- 
nah’s Car’lyn ” 

“ The poor soul ! ” said his sister. “ I can believe 
that in her secret, subdued way Aunty Rose Kennedy 
is entirely wrapped up in Carolyn May. She will 
suffer if they are separated for long — and so 
abruptly.” 

“ That is true,” Miss Amanda said gently. “ And 
Joe will feel it, too.” 

“ I bet I will,” agreed Joseph Stagg. “ But I have 
you, Mandy. Aunty Rose isn’t going to have any- 
body. And for her to go back alone into her old 
house — for she won’t stay with us, of course — ” he 
shook his head dolefully. 

“ Let me write to Aunty Rose,” said Hannah 
Cameron briskly. “ We want her here. Why, of 
course, we do! don’t we, Carolyn May?” 

“ Why! ” cried the child delightedly, “ that’s just 
the way out of it, isn’t it? My! how nice things do 
come about in this world, don’t they? Aunty Rose 


3 i8 CAROLYN OF THE CORNERS 

shall come here. You’ll like her ever so much, papa. 
And Prince will be glad to have her come, for she 
always has treated Princey real well.” 

Prince, who had been standing by with his ears 
cocked, yawned, whined, and lay down with a sigh, 
as though considering the matter quite satisfactorily 
settled. 

Carolyn May, having climbed up into her father’s 
arms, reached out and drew her mother close beside 
her. 


THE END 
















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